


Second Chances

by the_twilit_files



Series: Second Chances [1]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Magic, Mystery, Reincarnation, Romance, Secrets, Suspense, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 14:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 63,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18994693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_twilit_files/pseuds/the_twilit_files
Summary: Death isn't as permanent as most think, Gwen knows this first hand. Maybe that's why the past can never stay in the past. Her quick trip to Mystic Falls soon spirals out of control when she runs into her ex: Damon Salvatore. Set in season 4. DamonOC





	1. Chapter 1

It was late when she finally passed the town’s welcome sign. Unusually dark for this time of year, the car’s headlights were the only source of light on the road. She felt her body involuntarily tense as she drove further into town. She could not explain the draw to this small Virginia town, but some part of her needed to be here. And after a year of eerie dreams and flashbacks, she was ready to find out why.

Her phone rang and she quickly answered it, putting on speaker in order to avoid hearing the annoying and generic ringtone. She should really just suck it up and pay for a less grating one.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Gwen. It’s Helen. I was just calling to check in.”

Gwen should have known. Since she left Colorado, Helen had called every night to check in, just as any mother would. Helen wasn’t her biological mother. In fact, Helen had never formally adopted her after taking in Gwen after her parents’ deaths. But she had assumed the role for the last nine years, so Gwen considered Helen be her mother.

“I’m about five minutes away from the motel. It’s been an easy, mind-numbing drive.”

She heard Helen scoff, which was her unspoken _I told you so._ “I can’t believe I let you do this,” Helen continued. “You should be going back to school.”

“I know, I know. But it’s not as if I’m missing out on a whole semester. I’m enrolled in three online classes. I won’t be that far behind,” she reminded, trying to pacify Helen. “Besides, I can’t do another year of this former-life-recall nonsense. Especially since I’m trying to stay under our former coven’s radar. Too many of their kids that showed up at school last year to be a coincidence.”

She heard Helen sigh in understanding on the other end. They left Virginia six years earlier to escape their coven, which had been growing rather extreme in its philosophy and agenda. Helen had been wary of the direction the coven was going in already, and knew Gwen’s parents would not want their daughter involved. So, Helen made the decision to formally leave the coven and took the uninitiated Gwen with her to Colorado. They had left so abruptly that Gwen was sure that the coven did not appreciate their departure, which would explain why three of the coven’s novitiates had shown up at Gwen’s university last year. Clearly, tabs had been kept on Gwen and Helen, which was concerning to say the least. What did they want with them?

“You just do what you have to do, and come home,” Helen said firmly. “Mystic Falls is about the last place a witch without her full powers and memories should be. The amount of supernatural activity there is unheard of.”

“I will,” she said as she pulled into a parking spot in front of a motel, only a block from the main street of town. “I just parked. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Gwen said before hanging up.

Gwen slipped her phone into her bag and turned the car off as she surveyed her surroundings. It was past midnight, so the streets were fairly empty. She gave a tired sigh and grabbed her purse and duffel bag from the passenger’s seat. The hotel was nondescript and appeared to be built sometime in the seventies. As the only option in town that wasn’t an overpriced bed and breakfast, though, it would have to do. Besides, it was only temporary and she didn’t plan to be there long.

She dodged some bugs swarming the flickering, fluorescent light and went inside. The lobby was in definite need of a makeover. Everything was banged up or chipping. Thankfully, there was an attendant behind the front desk. He was a man in his mid-thirties with thinning blonde hair and a skinny frame. He must have been half-asleep when she walked in because he jumped slightly when he heard the bell. She smiled apologetically.

“Hello,” the man said, starting his spiel. “My name is Bill, and welcome to the Crescent Moon Hotel. How may I help you?”

Gwen had to fight every urge to roll her eyes at the hotel’s name. _Crescent Moon, really? How cliché._

“I need a room for one, please,” she said, digging in her purse for her wallet.

“All right,” Bill said, turning to his computer. “Name?”

“Alexa James,” she said, handing him her fake credit card. She had every intention to pay the bill, but she did not want to use her real name. It was just a precaution.

“How long will you be staying?” he asked with what she thought was supposed to be a charming smile, but came off as slightly creepy.

“A week.” She knew that timeframe was a bit optimistic, but she could always extend it if she needed. Bill finished up with the computer and handed her the room key. It was an actual key. This hotel really needed an update.

“Room two-fourteen. Just go back outside, make a left, take the stairs up, and your room is about three from the end.”

“Thank you.”

As she made her way to her room, she could only hope that the room and, more importantly, the bathroom were clean.


	2. Chapter 2

Gwen had a late start the next morning. Driving across country was more tiring that she had thought it would be. Not that it was hard; but it was just so boring.

She had been pleasantly surprised to see that the motel was well maintained, even if its décor was out-dated. Her room and bathroom were clean, and the bed was fairly comfortable. The only downside was that the motel did not serve breakfast. The morning attendant had directed her to a café on Main Street, but she figured she should buy some food that day so she would not have to eat out for every meal. 

The early fall weather was nice that morning. A light jacket was just enough, so Gwen, happy she had remembered her leather jacket, ate her breakfast on the café’s patio. The shops and restaurants on the main road definitely gave off that quaint small town feel. God, why were small towns so predictable? Honestly, the amount of paranormal activity here just made it that much more predictable. It was almost aggravating that she was even drawn to this place. She sipped her tea and thought, _It might all be a giant obnoxious cliché, but at least it’s a pretty scene with all the fall colors._

The library was probably one of the newer buildings, though they had tried to give it a more historical look. For such a small town, the library was quite large. Her inner nerd squealed before she remembered her task. She was not a patient person, so she walked straight to the help desk, figuring the librarian would know the exact location of what she was looking for.

“How can I help you?” a middle-aged woman asked from behind the counter.

“I was hoping you could point me in the direction of the town history books? Specifically, between the years of 1840 and 1865?”

The woman smiled and gave an exaggerated sigh. “That was one this town’s busiest times. You have anything more specific than the years?”

“I’m really looking for a list of the town’s citizens during that time, and then I plan to go from there.”

The woman gave her a look that might have been pity and said, “We might, but it won’t be easy to find. Follow me.”

Gwen was led to the reference section, which was in the far corner of the library. They stopped at the end of section labeled “Town History, 1800-1899.”

“They’re labeled by decade. The 1840s are just about four units in. A lot of these books have been donated over the years, so they’re mostly first-hand accounts of events or whatever someone felt needed to be recorded. We need to go through and figure out what we have, but the transition to digital has taken precedence. Sorry I can’t be more helpful.”

_Well shit,_ Gwen thought. “It’s no problem.”

“All right. We close at five, and none of these books can be checked out.”

“Thanks,” Gwen said, laying her bag on the lone table at the end of the stacks. The librarian nodded and went back to her desk, leaving Gwen to a self-imposed and daunting task.

* * *

 

 

It had been three days since Gwen started her search. Three, very long days. She had almost made her way through the first stack in the 1840s section and had yet to find even a hint of what she was looking for. In addition, the first stack only went through 1842. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. She sighed, realizing she had been overly optimistic in how long her search would take. She would have to extend her stay and ask Helen for more money.

It was almost five, so she put away her things and left a piece of paper between two books to remind her where she had stopped. Tomorrow was Sunday, which meant that the library would be closed and she would have a twenty-four hour break. She was really looking forward to not being in the library tomorrow.

Her first step outside was not as enjoyable as she would have liked. The temperature had dropped dramatically since that morning and the wind had picked up. She pulled her leather coat closer to her, and walked to The Mystic Grill. The local hangout had decent food and free WiFi, so Gwen preferred to go there for a bit at night before returning to the motel room.

The Grill was busier than it had been the last two days she had come here. Thankfully, her small booth in the corner was available. She made a beeline for it, sat down, and pulled out her laptop to boot up while she waited for the server.

“I like our food, but I don’t know if I’d eat here three nights in a row.”

She glanced up to the blond-haired, blue-eyed, All-American server smiling as if he had just told some kind of joke. She glanced quickly at his name tag, which read Matt.

“Yes, but you also have free WiFi, and my motel doesn’t have either,” she said, grinning slightly. 

“An outsider,” he said knowingly. “Visiting family?”

“Actually, I’m researching some town history for a family friend.”

He looked surprised for moment and then took her order. He was a good waiter for the rest of her stay. They actually managed to talk quite a bit during his stops at her table. Gwen hadn’t realized how much she needed the human interaction and appreciated him talking to her, even if he was just trying to get a better tip. As the night wore on, The Grill got louder. Eventually, it was too loud for Gwen to concentrate, so she finished up her email to Helen and packed up her things. She was stopped by hand on her shoulder. She turned around to see Matt. He looked a bit nervous.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, confused by his demeanor.

“No, um.…,” he stumbled for a second. “I know this will sound like a line, but I swear I don’t usually do this. I know you’re only in town for a short time, but would you want to get coffee sometime? And by sometime, I mean tomorrow night at eight, when I get off work.”

Her rational side told her to tell him no, to not get involved. She needed to get out of this town and back to her normal life. But, did that mean she couldn’t have any fun?

“Sure,” she said, causing relief to flood his features. She took out a scrap piece of paper and wrote her number on it. Handing him the paper, she smiled. “Text me.”

“Wait,” he said as she turned to leave. “I still don’t know your name.”

“Alexa,” she said with a small laugh. _Yes,_ she thought, _this town is just full of clichés._


	3. Chapter 3

_She was standing on the edge of a cemetery. There was a crowd of faceless people all dressed in black. Gwen wasn’t sure what was going on, but she felt overwhelmingly sad and helpless. The mass of people started moving toward her, causing a shiver of fear to course through her. Suddenly, a warmth enveloped her, and she was being pulled away from the crowd. She could not tell who or what had saved her, but was immediately grateful and relaxed. Still sad, she at least felt safe. She turned to see who had saved her, to thank them._

BEEP! BEEP! 

The high-pitched horn of someone’s car alarm startled Gwen awake. She groaned and looked at her clock, which said it was about three in the morning. She rolled back over and buried herself in her blankets while mumbling about “freakin’ assholes” and “freakin’ alarms.” She fell back asleep in minutes.

Gwen took advantage of the closed library and slept in the next morning. She had been getting up early (for her) and arriving at the library by eight in the morning when it opened. It was nice to not have to rush anywhere. However, she had never been great at sitting around and doing nothing, and she was soon dressed and trying to figure out something to do.

Both her laptop and notebook were full of research and potential leads, but she could _not_ bring herself to sit down and go through it all again. She sighed, glancing out the window. She could see the backs of stores and the tops of the trees that lined the main road and town square. She really didn’t want to waste the day. Her mind drifted off to the weird dream she had been having, and then it hit her: the cemetery.

Sure, walking through the cemetery was odd to say the least. But it might be the faster way to find the name she was looking for. The library was taking too long. She pulled a black sweater over her head before putting on her coat and scarf. She checked her pockets for her gloves and then locked her door. It was just as cold as yesterday, but the wind had died down. Gwen briefly considered taking her car, but decided against it since the cemetery was only a couple of blocks away.

The streets were as busy as always, so no one paid much attention to her. She was a bit taken aback by the size of the cemetery. Even if Mystic Falls’ history dated back further than its 1800 records, it seemed rather large for what Gwen thought was a small town. Sighing, she shoved her hands deeper into her pockets. She figured what she was looking for would be closer to the back, so she started heading in that direction.

She followed a poorly maintained, winding, dirt trail down some hills further back. Taking more time than she thought, she had to stop to catch her breath upon finally reaching the area she was looking for. From her flashbacks, she knew she needed to look for a death year of 1861. The row she was currently standing in was full of 1863 death dates. After about another thirty minutes of searching, she hit 1861. Another five minutes went by before she entered 1860 (apparently 1861 had fewer deaths). She stopped; she had not found the grave, but she was sure about the year. Why wasn’t it there? She wracked her brain and tried to recall the fuzzy details from her dreams, but nothing sprang to mind.

Gwen paused, jogging in place to keep warm. Families were often buried together, right? Had someone died earlier than 1861? _Yes_. Then it hit her: 1856. She continued walking and finally found what she was looking for: the Ashwood plot. She saw graves for Thomas and Lucille Ashwood, but not the one she needed. How could it not be here?!

An exasperated half-scream escaped her as she slid to the ground. She needed to find the grave and perform the ritual. That was the only way for her to have complete control of her powers, which she was going to need if her former coven truly was coming after them. This search was becoming more and more frustrating. She allowed herself to feel sorry for herself for a few minutes before picking herself up and making her way back to town.

* * *

 

Gwen still had most of the day left after her excursion and ended up wasting it. She did call Helen to fill her in on her progress (or lack thereof). Helen had been on her break and could not talk long, but it was nice to vent her frustrations about everything anyway. The rest of her day past slowly, and she decided that daytime TV was probably one of the worst things ever created. Matt texted her around four and told her to meet him at The Grill. She was confused, but texted back “ok” anyway. 

Waiting until seven to get ready at seven, Gwen touched up her hair and make-up and changed into a slightly cuter outfit. She kept her make-up minimal and was glad that her wavy, strawberry-blonde hair was easy to manage. After one last look over, she decided she could leave without getting to The Grill too early, and slipped on her leather jacket on her way out the door.

She walked quickly, and was thankful The Grill was only a few minutes away from the motel. The warmth was a relief as soon as she opened the door. With only an hour until closing time, there were only a handful of people in the restaurant. She scanned the room for Matt and found him behind the bar, where he waved her over.

Gwen chose a seat at the end of the bar. “So,” she started as he moved in front of her, “this is an unusual place for coffee.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had to cover for someone. But I can get you something that’s better than coffee,” he explained, gesturing to the shelves of alcohol behind him with a charming smile.

She laughed. “In the interest of you not losing your job, I have to tell you that I’m not twenty-one.”

He rested his elbows on the counter and lowered his voice. “Neither am I. Management doesn’t care. They’re too desperate trying to keep this place staffed.”

“All right then, tequila.” 

“So,” he said as he poured her drink. “How old are you?”

“You’re brave,” she teased before drinking the shot. “Nineteen.”

“Are you in college or just taking some time off from school?” he asked, pouring them both another shot.

“I’ve been going to a community college out in Colorado, but deferred for a semester to come here. You?”

 “I’ve lived here my whole life. I actually haven’t seen much outside of Mystic Falls. Maybe I’ll get a chance to once I graduate. Don’t worry,” he added at her a questioning look. “I am eighteen.”

“Where do want to go when you graduate?”

He paused, as if he hadn’t really thought about it. “I’m not sure, but somewhere with a lot of sun like Florida or California.”

“Wow. Those places are kind of far from home.”

He shrugged. “I don’t have anything keeping me here.”

Gwen nodded in what she hoped was an understanding way. A silence fell between them; Matt seemed to regret what he said but continued to pour them shots. She took the time to really look at him. God, he was cute. How he was single (she assumed) was beyond her. In addition, he seemed nice, yet slightly tortured. He was her type all right.

“So,” he said, trying to start the conversation again. “What’s the favor you’re doing for a friend that brought you all the way to Mystic Falls?”

She hesitated, not wanting to give away too much, but maybe he would know something. “I’m looking for some information on an old family that used to live here for a friend. She’s sick and it’s an obsession of hers, so I said I’d help. I mean, I don’t know what I’m doing with my life anyway, so what’s the harm in taking a semester off?”

“That’s really nice of you,” Matt said, something like respect coloring his voice. “Which family?

“The Ashwoods. I haven’t been able to find anything about them yet,” she said, allowing some her irritation to come through.

Matt shook his head. “Sorry, I haven’t heard of them. They must not have been a founding family. If they were, they aren’t well known, or don’t have any living descendants.”

“Oh well,” she sighed. “Maybe the library has something.”

“Is this the worst date you’ve ever been on?”

“No,” she answered honestly. “I’ve definitely been on more boring dates, and this one has alcohol.”

He gave a half-smile that had her melting in her seat. “Besides, the date’s not over,” she pointed out.  “You still have to walk me home.”

Matt’s blue eyes locked on her grey ones with an intensity she had not expected from him. Yet, she could not shake the feeling of déjà vu as he looked at her.

“How’s the Crescent Moon treating you?” he asked, as he started to clean up for the night.

“Fine. It’s cheap.” She felt butterflies in stomach, which she mentally berated herself for. He laughed, louder than she had heard him yet. It was a good laugh. Infectious, just like his smile.

Matt got someone else to stay and lock up so he could walk her home. He apologized again for the lame date, but she told him not to worry about it. Honestly, she had fun just hanging out with someone instead of sitting alone in her hotel room.

“We’re here,” Gwen said, stopping outside her door. She unlocked it, and turned back to him.

Before she could say anything, he had closed the space between them and his lips were on hers. She responded by knotting one hand in his hair and the other in his jacket. She felt herself being pushed against the door. Decision made, she pulled away long enough to gasp, “Inside.”

Matt’s hand hesitated on the doorknob. “Alexa, are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said, her breathing still heavy. He opened the door and she slipped inside. Quickly removing her shoes and jacket, Gwen turned around to see Matt had done the same and was working on his shirt. She felt her face warm slightly, but tried to ignore it. He was so well toned that she figured he must have been athlete or a workout freak. Either way, she appreciated the view.

He crossed the room, closing the space between them once again. He was so close, she tried to take a step back but felt her leg bump against the side of the bed. His mouth was on hers again. This time the kiss was hungrier and urgent. It was impossible for her to tell who was more insistent. In the end, she was just glad she had accepted his invitation.


	4. Chapter 4

**_1848_ **

 

Gwen was not happy to leave Providence. She didn’t understand why they had to go. Why couldn’t her sick grandmother come live with them? She did not want to leave all her friends behind.

Such had been the complaints of six-year-old Gwen. To pacify her, her mother had allowed her to wear her hair down and her father had promised to get her a pony and let her learn to ride. Gwen had kept her whining to a minimum since then, not wanting to anger her parents and lose the chance to ride. She had been begging them forever to let her learn. Thomas and Lucille Ashwood did not spoil their child, but they knew how hard the move would be for her and hoped these new privileges would help endear her to Mystic Falls.

Thomas was an average man: average height, average weight, average looks. He had grey eyes and thinning dark hair. He had been older, in his late twenties, when he married Lucille, six years his junior. Other than the thinning hair, his age had yet to show. He was a kind, quiet and very intelligent man. Though he inherited his money from his parents, he had worked as a lawyer in Providence. That was where he met Lucille, by chance, at a dinner party thrown by a mutual friend.

People had said she was destined to be a spinster, since she was already twenty and not married. Her age had not deterred him from talking to her; her beauty was undeniable, and she was intelligent and clever as well. She was like him in that she preferred small gatherings to large parties and being outdoors to indoors. What surprised him the most weren’t her brains or personality, but her interest in him. They married five months later.

In the carriage, Lucille sat across from him and next to their daughter. She was reading a book, but would glance up at him or Gwen every so often. They were going to live her mother, who was ill. Despite the circumstances, she was happy to return to Mystic Falls. Her parents had sent her to live with her aunt, who had the job of introducing her to society and meeting potential husbands. At the time she was furious, but Lucille had gained an appreciation for her parents’ plan. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have met her husband,  or had her daughter. Her strawberry-blonde hair shone as the sun hit it, the same sun causing her soft hazel eyes to water occasionally.

Gwen fidgeted in her seat, growing bored from sitting so long.

“Gwen,” her father warned firmly. He knew his daughter: fidgeting and boredom led to trouble or whining. Their carriage limited the trouble she could find, so he knew the whining would be starting soon.

“Thomas,” Lucille said knowingly, closing her book.  “She’s been well-behaved today, but you know she likes to be moving. Besides, we’re almost there. Gwen, look out the window. We’re passing through town now.”

Gwen sat up on her knees and looked out the window. The town was small with only a handful of buildings lining the main, dirt road. It was different than Gwen was used to, but she didn’t hate it.

“Where’s Grandmother’s house?” she asked, sitting back on the bench.

“Just a little ways out of town. There’s plenty of room for you learn to ride,” her mother smiled. “Mother said Giuseppe Salvatore is now our closest neighbor. Apparently, he’s built quite a nice farm nearby. He’s the one whose wife passed a year ago,” she added quietly to her husband.

Thomas nodded, looking back out the window.

“He has a son your age,” Lucille said to Gwen. “Perhaps you two can be friends.”

“Maybe,” she mumbled.

They pulled up to a very large white house surrounded by tall willow trees. It was built during colonial times and had the tall Greek columns in the front. Gwen thought it looked like a castle. Their house in the city wasn’t half the size of her Grandmother’s home.

“It’s amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it, love,” her mother said. “Let’s go meet your grandmother.”

Gwen hopped out the carriage in front of her of parents and ran to the woman standing at the base of the front steps.

“Hello, I’m Gwen,” she beamed. The woman smiled and laughed.

“Then I believe I’m your grandmother. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Hello, Mother,” Lucille said, hugging and kissing her mother’s cheek. “Should you be out of bed?”

“It’s nice to see you too, Lucy, Thomas. I’m not on my deathbed yet, you know.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“You all need to get cleaned up,” Grandmother said, leading them all inside. “The guests will be arriving soon.  Everyone was so excited to see you, I decided to have a welcome back dinner for you.”

Lucille and Thomas exchanged a look; they had expected nothing else. Rosemary Jacobs loved to throw a party, especially when it included showing off her daughter. Thomas rolled his eyes at the memory of his elaborate wedding.

* * *

 

Gwen had wandered into the garden, bored with sitting and listening to the adult conversation. She picked one of the rosebuds and began playing with its soft petals. The bush next to her shook violently, scaring her and causing her to drop the bud.  She kneeled down and looked through the bush. Two ice-blue eyes stared back at her. 

The eyes disappeared, and a voice said, “Who are you?”

Gwen stood up and saw the owner of the blue eyes was a boy with dark, wavy hair. He looked to be about her size.

“I’m Gwen. This is my new home. Who are you?”

“Damon Salvatore,” he said proudly. 

“Mommy said your family had a farm. Does it have horses?”

“Yes,” he said as if it was the silliest question ever.

“How many? Do you ride? I’m going to learn to ride,” she said excitedly.

Damon scoffed. “Girls don’t ride horses!”

“I will,” Gwen said defiantly.

“We’ll see.”

* * *

 

**_1856 — Eight years later_ **

 

“Bet I can beat you to the big tree,” Gwen shouted over her shoulder. She laughed as she pushed Faye, her white horse, into a gallop. Gwen smiled wider as her hair waved behind her in the wind. 

Damon laughed from behind her. “Doubt it.”

They raced through the back of Damon’s family field to the dead tree near the edge of the forest. It was their spot, right next to a small creek. They went there to hide from their parents, but also from the people in town, who didn’t think their relationship was appropriate for a girl and boy of fourteen.

“Whoa, girl,” Gwen said, pulling on the reins. Her horse slowed and stopped a few feet away from the tree. Damon followed a few seconds later. “Beat you again,” she taunted.

“Maybe I let you win,” he teased, dismounting his own chestnut horse.

“Sore loser.”

He stuck his tongue at her and helped her from her horse. She didn’t need the help, but it was the gentlemanly thing to do. They tied their horses to the tree, and then lay down in the tall grass next to the creek.

“I’ll beat you one of these days,” he promised.

“Sure,” she answered sarcastically. Her mood soured as she recalled his rude comments from outside the schoolhouse the day before. “I thought you couldn’t be friends with girls?”

“That’s just something you say,” he said matter-of-factly. “You know you’re the only fun one around here.”

“Hmm.”

“How’s your mom?” he asked, twisting a piece of grass in his fingers.

“Worse,” Gwen sighed, sitting up and pulling her knees to her chest. Lucille had become sick a few months earlier and had been steadily getting worse. Bedridden, she spent most of the day asleep. Thomas had written to her mother’s sister, Lila, to come stay with them. He was worried about his daughter and thought another female presence—Grandmother Rosemary had died several years ago— would be helpful for Gwen. So far, Aunt Lila spent most of her time fussing over her mother and yelling at Gwen for not behaving “properly.”

Damon sat up and leaned his head against hers, his fingers combing her hair. He could not imagine what she was going through. All he knew was that he didn’t like seeing her so sad and quiet all the time. It wasn’t like Gwen.

“You never know,” he said weakly, “ she may get better.”

She laughed humorlessly and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

He wrapped his arms around her, hoping to comfort her. However, he wished he were holding her under happier circumstances.  Damon only joked about not being able to be friends with girls. It was all an act. He wouldn’t end their friendship for anything.  Gwen was the only one in the whole town who was as wild and adventurous as he was. It wasn’t just because they had grown up together and gotten in trouble countless times for their adventures. Even though he had a difficult time admitting it to himself, he was in love with her. His biggest fear was that she didn’t feel the same.

She pulled away from him and wiped her eyes. “I should get home, before Aunt Lila decides to confine me to the house.”

Standing up, they untied the horses and mounted them in silence. Gwen kept Faye at a slow walk so she could tame her hair before going home. Damon kept pace with her, not sure what he should or could say to make her feel better.  Gwen took her horse to the stables. Damon hesitated; he knew he needed to get home, but didn’t want to leave her yet.

“Did you have a nice ride, Miss Gwen,” the stable hand asked.

“Yes, thank you, George,” she said, placing a fake smile on her face. Damon tied his horse up outside the stable.

“I’m capable of getting to the house on my own,” she said as they walked across the large green yard toward the porch.

“Trust me, I know,” he smirked.  “But a gentleman should walk a lady to her house, Miss Ashwood.”

She didn’t laugh or smile. Under normal circumstances she would have. She stopped at the foot of the steps, wringing her hands nervously and looking to the forbidding house.

“What’s wrong?” Damon asked, taking her hands in his.

“Aunt Lila’s been talking to Father.  She doesn’t think it’s proper for us to be together unchaperoned.”

He didn’t buy it. “Our families, and the town, have that talk all the time.  They’re always going to talk, and we’ll always ignore them. Gwen,” he said gently, pulling her hands to his chest and leaning his forehead against hers. “What’s really wrong?”

“I hate going in there,” she said, taking a deep breath.  “It doesn’t feel like home.  It’s depressing and suffocating. I hate being here.  Does that make me a horrible daughter?”

Damon let go of her hands, only to pull her into another hug.  “No,” he said quietly.  “It just means you’re hurting and scared.”

“Thank you, Damon,” she whispered, hugging him tightly. She pulled away, kissing his cheek as she released him.  Though she didn’t look at him again, he watched her walk up the steps and enter house, warmth spreading from where she kissed him.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Present day_ **

 

A strange alarm woke Gwen up the next morning. She groaned and pulled the covers over her head. It was far too early to be up. The bed shook slightly beneath her, and the alarm stopped.

“Sorry,” Matt mumbled, sounding as if he were still half asleep. “It’s my alarm for school.”

“That’s awful,” she groaned. “The sun isn’t even up yet.”

He chuckled. “I know. I live kind of far from school so I set multiple alarms to make sure I get up.”

“So…” he said after a few minutes. “I need to, uh….”

“You haven’t done this before, have you?” she asked, rolling over to look at him.

“That obvious?” he asked, nervously running his fingers through his hair.

“Don’t worry,” she said easily while trying to hold back a giggle. “You can go. It’s fine.”

He smiled and bent down to kiss her forehead. “I’ll call you, ok?”

“Sure,” she said, though she didn’t care either way. He was cute and sweet, and last night was fun, but Gwen didn’t want to get too involved in this town. She did not plan to be here long and could not afford any complications.

* * *

 

For once being stuck in the library wasn’t awful. It was raining. Actually, it was one of the worst storms Gwen had ever seen. Normally, the rain did not bother her, but she had been soaked on her walk to the library this morning. She was not looking forward to her walk back to the motel. 

The break from research had been good for her. She had decided to start looking in the 1860s section for information, specifically 1861. It was stupid that she had not started there in the first place. She knew her past self died that year, and the town was almost creepily meticulous about noting when its citizens died.

Two hours later, she cursed the change in strategy. Gwen was about halfway through a journal from one of the founding family’s daughters and wanted to repeatedly bang her head on the table. Not only were the contents boring, but also the girl was a total bitch. Gwen was the first to admit she was not always the nicest person. However, this girl was the original mean girl. She badmouthed everyone (or betrayed them in some way), even her friends and family members.

Gwen had been about to give up and move on to a different book when a word on the next page caught her eye. It was “Ashwood,” her past self’s last name. She skipped over to the beginning of the paragraph and began reading eagerly.

_I can’t believe Damon Salvatore is actually going to marry that Ashwood girl. It’s absurd! He’s part of a founding family and could do so much better. And why is the marriage so sudden? Could she be with child? Everyone knows she’s not a “proper” lady, but tricking poor Damon into marriage? What kind of woman is she? Mother always said there was something off about that family, though witchcraft seems just as absurd as the whole marriage!_

Salvatore. She had seen that last name several times in her research: The Salvatores were one of the founding families of Mystic Falls. From what she had read, they were also one of the wealthiest and had a large estate on the edge of town. However, she had only seen something about a Salvatore Boarding House when she had researched the town. Nothing about the estate seemed large enough to include room for a farm. She would have to ask someone or find some old maps of the property.

Gwen couldn’t help but feel a bit excited as she put away the books and her notes. She might not have an exact location, but she was close. According to her research, the founding families often had had so much land that they were buried on it. Since she had not been buried with her parents, it was likely she had been buried on the old estate.

“Hi,” Gwen said to the bored-looking teen boy behind the counter. Apparently, the regular librarian, was out today. “I was wondering if you could tell me where to find some old maps of the town?”

He stared blankly for what felt like several minutes, but Gwen tended to exaggerate when she was impatient. “If by ‘old’ you mean historical, then you needed to go to the records department in City Hall,” he said. “They’re kept there in case anyone wants to build something.”

“Thanks,” Gwen said, a bit taken aback by his response. She had not expected him to be so helpful or so knowledgeable. It was still raining outside, but was not as bad as it had been. City Hall was only a couple of blocks away. _Suck it up_ , she told herself. _You’re so close._

* * *

 

“Dude, what’s up with you today?” Jeremy asked as he slid onto the bench across from Matt. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, pushing the carrot sticks around on his tray.

“You’re oddly calm and out of it today. You know, considering all the vampire crap.”

“There’s always vampire crap. We can’t let it make us miserable everyday.”

“Very zen of you,” Jeremy mocked. Matt only shrugged and turned his attention back to his food. He was still in a good mood from last night and wanted to enjoy it for as long as he could. Given how things were in Mystic Falls, he knew it wouldn’t last long.

* * *

 

Gwen began stripping off her clothes the minute she closed the door to her room. She was soaked through and prayed her notes weren’t damaged. After turning on the shower, she pulled her notebooks out of her bag and set them on the table to dry out. Her drenched clothes went on the heater, hoping it would help a little while she jumped in the shower. 

The hot water felt great, especially with how cold she was from the rain. She stayed in the shower much longer than normal in order to enjoy the warmth. Getting out was almost worse than running through the rain all day.

Toweling off, she decided to let her hair air dry, and slipped into a black long-sleeved tee and grey sweatpants. Squeezing out her hair just a bit more, Gwen exited the bathroom. She grabbed her notes and phone, before crawling under the covers of her bed.

She looked over her latest set of notes as her computer started up. There was an approximate location of the old Salvatore estate and an idea of where the family cemetery had been. All she had left was to figure out how to get to the old estate. She was pretty sure most of the original roads out there were gone. City Hall had some fliers about historical hiking, so she could likely find out some more information online. Her phone rang as she typed in the city’s website.

“Hey Helen. What’s up?”

“Just calling to check in on you. How’s it going?”

“Good. I think I found it. I just need it to stop raining long enough to find the grave and perform the ritual. The full moon is in a couple of days. The forecast said it would clear by then, so fingers crossed.”

“That’s good,” Helen said, though she sounded a bit distracted. “And you haven’t run into anything…odd, right?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think that nothing supernatural had ever visited this town,” Gwen muttered. “I’m going to take it as a blessing, and not think about what the calm could mean. I just need to do this ritual and then I’m gone.”

“Just be careful. I don’t want to have to get on a plane to bail your ass out of trouble. You know how I feel about planes,” Helen joked.

“Oh no, wouldn’t want to inconvenience you like that. I’ll be careful,” Gwen promised, smiling at Helen’s tough love. “Should be on my way home soon.”

“Good. Keep me posted.”

“Will do.”


	6. Chapter 6

**_1856_ **

 

Despite their hopes, Lucille Ashwood did not recover from her illness.

It was the second week of May, though Gwen couldn’t remember which day in particular.  All she could remember was that it was an unnaturally hot for that time of year.  Gwen snuck upstairs to open the French doors in her mother’s room, hoping the breeze would help cool her.  Wanting to check that her mother was comfortable and trying not to wake her, Gwen quietly tiptoed to her mother’s bed

She seemed to be sleeping, but after a moment Gwen realized something was off.  Her mother’s skin was cool, and her chest unnaturally still. Gwen must have screamed, for a minute later her father, aunt, and her mother’s maid came running into the room. Aunt Lila ushered her out quickly and directed one of the other maids to take Gwen to her room.

That was two days ago. Gwen had not done or spoken much since then besides cry in her room or sit in a non-responsive daze.  Her aunt and one of the maids helped her dress for the funeral. Her movements were stiff, and they lost patience with her quickly. Aunt Lila had admonished her for not eating, bad posture, and looking too sullen.  They were burying her mother today, how could she look too sullen?

Most of Mystic Falls showed up for the service.  Everyone was dressed in their “mourning clothes,” meaning the women wore blacks and grays and the men were in their usual dark-colored suits. She heard their whispers and noticed their pitying looks.  Gwen avoided them all, alternating between looking at the floor or wall as the reverend spoke.

When the service ended, she earned a reproving glance from her aunt for standing too quickly. All she wanted was to get away.  It was getting harder to put on a brave face, so she slipped away as the townspeople gave their condolences to her father. The coffin was too close for her to bear any longer.

Gwen walked back to where the horses and carriages were waiting for them. Despite her desire to be left alone, there was the wake to attend. Aunt Lila would never let her out of it. She sighed and turned her attention to Maple, one of their brown carriage horses.

“Hello,” came a voice from behind her. She turned her head to see Damon. Gwen gave him a weak smile and turned back to Maple. “Is asking how you’re doing a stupid question?” he asked as he stood next to her.

She gave a humorless laugh in response.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked after a few minutes. 

Her hand stilled on the horse’s neck and she turned to look at him. “Can you take me away from this?”

He nodded, took her free hand, and led them over to his horse tied to a post next to his father’s carriage. Gwen briefly wondered why he had not ridden with his father, but let it go, in favor of appreciating the convenience. He mounted first, and then helped her get up behind him.

Gwen saw her father and aunt leading the mourners back to the carriages. “Damon,” she said warningly.

“Hold on,” he said, urging his horse to move. He had the horse in a gallop, and they were flying past the mourners before they could be stopped. After a moment’s pause, the shouts started.

“Gwen!” came her father’s shocked cry, which just barely cancelled out the angry reprimand from her aunt. However, theirs were nothing compared to Mr. Salvatore.

“DAMON SALVATORE!” he shouted, his voice drowning out everyone else as he followed them down the road.

Damon’s only reaction was to urge his horse to go faster. Gwen felt her stomach tighten from guilt, but she couldn’t bring herself to make Damon turn around. Damon took them much further than they usually went.

When they finally stopped, they were deep in the woods. Damon slid off the horse and tied the tired horse to a nearby tree. Thankfully, there was a small creek the horse could get a drink from. Damon then helped Gwen off the horse. Her willingness to accept help bothered him a bit; normally, she was so stubborn about doing things herself.

Gwen was silent for a few minutes. She took a few steps away from him, hugging herself and wearing a vacant expression.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally.

“What?” he asked, moving to stand in front of her. “Why are you sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have asked you to do this. It was selfish. Your father….”

“Forget it,” he said and moved forward to hug her. She laid her head against him, her fists bunching the front of his suit. “There’s nothing he can do that he hasn’t done, and that I haven’t survived. If you’re going to worry about anyone, worry about your aunt. The look on her face….”

Gwen laughed in spite of herself and let go of Damon, wiping her eyes as she did. “Oh no,” she groaned. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” Damon sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Blame it on grief and move on.”

She sighed and sat on the ground, not worrying about getting her dress dirty. It was almost comfortable in the woods, where the trees grew so close together that the sun could barely penetrate. Her head ached with the complicated hairstyle her aunt had insisted upon arranging, but there were too many pins holding it together to be worth the trouble of removing them to relieve the pressure.

Damon was still standing, uncertain of what he should do.

“Sit with me for just awhile?” she asked. “We can go back in a bit.”

He did, glad that he did not have to guess what she needed.

They sat there until sundown. Occasionally, they talked, but mostly they were quiet. Gwen actually drifted off once. Damon only woke her because he knew they needed to get back before a search party was sent for them. As they made their way back to the Ashwood Manor, he briefly thought about how easy it would be for them to leave town. Well, easy in the physical sense. They did not have any money with them and were still just kids. He sighed in frustration.

“Thanks, Damon,” Gwen said before sliding off his horse.

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll try to come by tomorrow. Perhaps we can go for a ride.”

“I would like that. Good night,” she said, giving a small smile before turning to go inside. He watched her go up the steps. He only left after she ducked inside the house, sending him a quick wave in farewell before the door shut behind her.

* * *

 

The maids began fussing over her immediately, the commotion drawing her father and aunt’s attention to the foyer. Gwen had never seen her father look so tired or lost. She felt guilty for her actions and could not look at him directly. Her aunt, on the other hand, looked absolutely livid. The maids, quieted, and quickly exited in the wake of her ire.

“Let’s adjourn to the sitting room,” her aunt said stiffly, her eyes never leaving Gwen as they walked. Gwen and her father sat down immediately, but her aunt remained standing.

“Well, there’s no point in stalling,” her aunt began, authority and anger coloring every word. “Your father and I have been discussing your future."

“My future?” Gwen asked, her own voice becoming hard.

“Don’t interrupt,” Lila said sternly. “We’ve been trying to decide what would be the best option for your future. Your behavior today made the decision for us. We have decided that you will come live with me, attend a _proper_ finishing school, and work on your craft.”

“What?!” she exclaimed, turning to her father. “I know I shouldn’t have run off like that, but I was upset. It doesn’t justify sending me away! Father!”

“Gwen,” her father said gently, exhausted. “This is not a punishment. Your aunt is going to be able you in ways that I cannot. She has connections, and will train you the way your mother wanted you to be trained.”

“But this is my home! I don’t want to leave!”

“It’s only for a few years,” he soothed. He pulled her into a hug and pet her head.

“When do I have to leave?” Gwen asked between sobs.

“Tomorrow,” her aunt supplied. “Your things have already been packed.”

“I can’t even say good-bye to my friends?”

“I’m sorry,” her aunt said, her voice softening for the first time all evening. “But this is for the best.”


	7. Chapter 7

**_Present Day_ **

 

The rain cleared up earlier than expected, for which Gwen was thankful. The ground would still be soft, but trekking through the woods would be less hazardous. Taking the day to get ready for the ritual, she made a list of the necessary supplies.

The new age store in Mystic Falls was definitely a tourist trap, but Gwen was able to get everything she needed. Signs littered the walls about magical events that may have occurred in the town, though she doubted the owner knew much of the town’s true supernatural history.

There were only two other customers in the shop when Gwen entered. Two brunette women who were probably in their late twenties stood laughing a couple aisles over. Gwen could tell they weren’t practitioners of the craft. They were just killing time and satisfying a curiosity. If they bought anything, it would probably be a candle for luck or romance. Gwen didn’t mind these kinds of passersby: It was refreshing to see people who saw magic as a force for good instead of destruction, which had been her primary experience. She quickly gathered and paid for the items on her list.

After the magic shop, Gwen stopped by a sporting goods store for a pair of sturdy hiking boots. Satisfied with her purchases, she slid her sunglasses down from their resting place on the top of her head as she stepped outside. It was nice to see the sun after so many days of clouds. It was also going to make her hike the next day much easier. She wouldn’t have to worry too much about getting stuck or sliding on muddy, wet ground.

Gwen ducked inside the café, intending to treat herself to a cup of tea and a croissant sandwich. The café was busy, full of high school students, but she was able to get a seat at one of the high-top tables by the window. Despite her mocking of Mystic Falls, she found the view peaceful and appreciated the distraction from the ritual.

Nervous about the magic she would have to perform, her mind seemed to hunt for further distractions until her eyes landed on Matt just outside. He was talking to a shorter boy with shaggy brown hair. Involved in what looked like a very serious conversation, they barely avoided running into other people on the sidewalk.

Gwen was about to look away when Matt caught her eye. She gave a small smile in acknowledgement, but turned her attention back to her food. Glancing up again, the boys were nowhere to be seen until she felt a presence at her side. She turned to see Matt standing next to her, a small smirk on his lips.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Go ahead,” she said, gesturing to the empty seat. He slid he book bag off his shoulder to the ground as he sat across from her.

“Learn anything interesting at school?”

“Not really. I haven’t seen you at The Grill in a couple of days. I thought you might have left.”

Gwen was relieved to see he wasn’t necessarily happy about her still being here, nor did he sound upset that she might have left without saying goodbye.

“I needed a break from burgers and fries, but I will be leaving town the day after tomorrow,” she said, taking a sip of her now lukewarm tea.

“Found what you were looking for then? Your friend must be happy.”

“She is; she’s very excited to see everything I’ve found. I’m happy to be going home, I didn’t think I’d miss it this much. And I’ve only been gone for two weeks!”

Matt smiled at her words, thinking it was nice she had such a strong connection somewhere. She was different from the people that usually passed through town, especially since she had not brought any supernatural drama with her. “You should stop by The Grill later. Dinner and drinks on the house, consider it a going away gift.”

“I can’t say no to free food, or alcohol. Sure your boss won’t mind?”

“Like I said, they don’t pay much attention.”

“It sounds like it’s a miracle the place even stays open."

Matt laughed, though it sounded hollow. “I don’t know about a miracle, but they’re very lucky.”

“So how do you manage working as much as you do on top of school?” she asked, deciding one or two personal questions couldn’t hurt.

“It’s not too bad,” he answered with a shrug. “My grades aren’t stellar, but they’re not bad. The worst part is that I had to quit football.”

Part of her wanted to ask about the “had,” but she decided to tease him instead. “I knew it. You were the big football star weren’t you?”

Matt laughed again, a real laugh this time. “I wouldn’t say I was the star, but I was pretty good. I’m guessing you weren’t on the cheer squad?”

“For about a month,” she conceded, feigning shame. “The captain started getting really controlling. The power went to her head, I guess, so I quit.  I don’t think I ever made it to a game again after that.”

“You missed out. Even if I can’t play, it’s always fun to go to a game. Did you play any other sports?”

“Not really, I started running and took up yoga. All of the health benefits and none of the drama,” she said. She checked her phone for the time. “I should get going. I’ll stop by later.”

* * *

 

 

The Grill was the busiest Gwen had ever seen it. She had to push her through a mass of people and just narrowly avoided having a tray of drinks dumped on her. Surprised to find an open seat at the bar, Gwen was quick to pounce on it.

Cheers erupted from behind her, apparently from a group of boys over by the pool tables. They seemed to be celebrating, but a few were scowling — probably sore losers. A tap on the wrist brought her attention back to the bar. Matt stood in front of her, a shot of tequila in his hand.

“You made it,” he nearly shouted.

She nodded, accepting the shot.

Matt couldn’t really talk much with how busy it was, but he promised to take a break after her meal. Gwen wouldn’t say she regretted coming, but this wasn’t the atmosphere she was expecting. Maybe it was the stress of the ritual, but the chaos was really grating on her nerves and the alcohol wasn’t helping. She was relieved when Matt came to get her, but that relief quickly became confusion as she followed him to the alleyway behind The Grill.

“Is this where you bring all the girls?” she teased, though the quiet was very welcome.

“No, I just thought it’d be easier to sneak out the back. Plus I was able to grab this,” he said, holding up an unopened bottle of tequila.

Gwen took two steps toward him and took the bottle from his hand. “So, not only are you skipping out on work, but you also stole this from them?”

“Yeah, well, I’ve enjoyed talking to you and wanted to see you off properly. Besides, I’ve covered for so many people, they owe me,” he figured. “Are we gonna drink that or stand continue standing in the dirty alley?”

She smirked at his sass and pushed past him, making her way to the motel. “I don’t have any cups, so I hope you don’t mind drinking out of the bottle,” she said as Matt caught up with her.

“I think we’ll be ok,” he said, taking the bottle back and opening it. He offered her the first drink, which she accepted. “So what will you do when you get back home?”

She shrugged; she hadn’t really given much thought to what would happen when she got home. “Finish my online classes, work at my mom’s place. Nothing exciting. I’m still figuring out the future.”

“Aren’t we all?” he smirked and took a drink from the bottle. “What does your mom do?”

“She owns a bar. She sometimes has me work as a waitress, but only when she’s desperate or I’m begging for extra cash. She doesn’t like me working there. It’s not quite as nice as The Grill.”

“You’ve just visited when the good customers are in. Trust me, we get some pretty sketchy characters.”

“Really?” Gwen asked, disbelief coloring her tone. “In this quiet little town?”

“Again, you just chose to visit at a good time.”

“Are you trying to scare me into leaving?” They had reached the motel, and Gwen was starting to feel a bit tipsy. She saw the counter clerk raise a judging eyebrow at them, which probably rose higher when she slipped and almost fell on the stairs. Thankfully, she was holding onto the railing and was able to steady herself. Matt had reached out to help her and his hand, which was now resting on her lower back, was not totally unwelcome.

“You ok?”

“Yes,” she answered, feeling her face warm from embarrassment. “The stairs are just a little slick. Can you hold this?” she asked, handing him the bottle so she could dig her keys out of her purse.

As soon as she was inside, Gwen kicked off her shows and pulled off her jacket, letting it fall to the floor. “So what are all the dark secrets of Mystic Falls?” she asked, plopping down on the bed.

Matt shook his head as he kicked off his own shoes. “Oh you know, the usual: mysterious deaths, absurd conspiracies, and I’m sure enough affairs to keep a daytime soap running for several seasons.”

Gwen laughed and took the bottle back from him. The burn of the tequila was bothering her less and less. The warmth spreading through her body was helping her to relax and enjoy the mindless conversation. 

“I wish it was a nice, quiet town,” Matt said, suddenly serious. “It used to be.”

“What do you mean?” Gwen asked, rolling on her side so she could look at him. He wore a small frown, accompanied by a crease on his forehead.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head before offering a small smile. “Things just used to be better.”

“People always say that about the past, though. Maybe it just seems better because you got through whatever was going on and it doesn’t seem that difficult anymore? You know?”

“That’s very insightful,” Matt said, setting the almost empty bottle on the nightstand. He repositioned himself so that he was lying on his side, facing her.

“Maybe. It’s more likely we’re drunk.”

“So smart.”

“Oh, shut up,” she said before leaning in to kiss him.

* * *

 

 

Matt was quiet when he left the next morning; she didn’t hear him at all. She found a note on the nightstand that wished her luck. It seemed a far cry from his awkward behavior their first morning after. Shrugging, Gwen focused on being able to get out of bed and functioning. She had to pack, get out to the where the manor had once been, and find the family cemetery. She did not have time to worry about the actions of teenage boys.

Within the hour, she was showered, dressed, and packed. She regretted drinking as much as she did. Her head was killing her, and she found herself wishing for clouds and rain again when she walked outside into the bright sun. Thankful she had sunglasses for once, Gwen grabbed complimentary water bottles from the motel office to stave off her hangover.

The drive was longer and more difficult than she had anticipated. While the roads were still there, they were not easy to see. More than once, Gwen would miss her turn and have to drive for a mile or two before she could find a way to turn around. She thought it was odd. Mystic Falls seemed like one of those places that were very proud of its history. Why would the roadways to one of its oldest plantations not be better maintained? She supposed she should be thankful for the town’s lack of interest in this plantation, though; performing the ritual would have been impossible in a popular tourist location.

By the time she reached the end of the road, it was after noon. She cursed herself for sleeping in that morning and getting lost so many times. Gwen pulled off to the side, grabbed her bag, and hopped out of the car. Finding the old footpath took a few minutes. According to the town records, one had been made in an attempt to make the plantation a tourist stop in the mid-nineties. However, the plan had been abandoned shortly after the path was finished. No reason why. All production was just stopped.

The path was obviously overgrown. Grass and weeds pushed their way through the cracks in the bricks, and it was littered with brown leaves, sticks and what looked like ivy. Honestly, Gwen could be barely make out the path, but it was better than nothing; at least she knew she was going in the right direction. As Gwen worked to not trip over a twig or vine, she thought that abandoning this place was a good idea. She had been walking for a half hour, and had yet to come across any sign of a plantation. If where she parked her car had been the place for the parking lot, she could not imagine this becoming a successful tour spot. It was way too much work to get there.

It was another half hour before she finally reached the iron gates of the old plantation. They were not too tall, maybe six feet. They covered with ivy, but Gwen could make out a chain joining them together. She supposed it was meant to keep out trespassers, but the brick walls on either side had deteriorated enough that Gwen was able to find a low enough spot to climb over.

Once she was on the other side of the wall, she found herself facing the ruins of an old manor. The walls were rotted, completely gone from the frame in some areas. Glass was missing from all of the windows, probably had been knocked out over the years. The only things intact were the columns in front of the house. It was hard to imagine this was once the most impressive estate in the town.

Swinging her backpack in front of her, Gwen pulled out a layout of the old estate she had been lucky to find at City Hall. It had the structures marked on it, as well as where the farmland began. However, not all of the smaller structures were labeled, so she was going to have guess where the family crypt was. She hoped her past self didn’t merit a place inside the crypt, that was too creepy even for her, but it would be a good place to start.

Looking around, Gwen tried to stifle any disappointment. She had thought being back here would have jolted some of her past memories, but she could not recall anything more than she had dreamt about over the last year. 

Crypts and family cemeteries were often kept in secluded places, so Gwen decided to keep close to the property’s edge. Maybe she would find something along the tree line, though most of the property was more forest than empty land. Gwen groaned; this was going to take forever. She should have woken up earlier — and not have been as drunk.

She made a full circle around the property until she was standing in front of the house again. She had not come across anything in the “clearing” or in the closer rows of trees. She sighed and bit her lip. There must have been a lot more growth than she had thought.

Looking at the map again, Gwen tried to figure out which structures she may have passed during her walkabout. Between the destroyed estate and darkness, it was hard to tell what she had walked by, but she knew she had not walked by a private cemetery. Gwen shivered. Not only was it dark and cold, but the wind was making it even almost unbearable. She was running out of time.

“Fuck it,” she said, folding the map and placing into her pocket. She was going to have to go into the woods, and hope her intuition was right. She set off in the direction of the guesthouse, thinking that maybe they kept the more personal buildings separate from the farm.

Walking through the woods at night was, in general, just a bad idea. The flashlight hardly did anything except let her see a few feet in front of her. Even then, she tripped over or was caught on several plants. Add the fact that this was Mystic Falls, and this hike was just suicidal.

There were towns all over the world that seemed to draw unusual amount of supernatural activity. Mystic Falls was not all that special in the grand scheme of things, but it had experienced a lot of vampire and werewolf activity in recent years, which led to most witches avoiding the area.  Rumors travelled fast in the witch community, the latest being that the original family of vampires had taken up residence in the area. Gwen wanted to believe that their presence was only a rumor, especially since she was not in full control of her powers. Nothing odd had happened in Mystic Falls since she had arrived. Perhaps they had moved on. She just wanted to do the ritual, go home, and avoid all involvement with vampires and werewolves.

Working with those creatures never ended well for her kind.

Gwen tripped over yet another root, causing her to lose balance until she caught herself on something hard and smooth. Pointing the flashlight down, she found it was an almost-intact headstone. She squatted in front of it and brushed off the front. Underneath the dust and erosion, she could make out the name “Salvatore” and “1789.” This was it. She had, thankfully, stumbled upon the old Salvatore cemetery.

Standing up, she moved the flashlight around her. There was a scattering of headstones outside the family crypt, about forty feet in front of her. Most of the headstones were simple and eroded. As she inspected a few, trying to figure out if there was any kind of order to them, she realized some had decorative elements to them: flowers and vines framing the names; maybe an angel or cross; a couple were even adorned with guns.

Eventually, she found some that seemed to be more clustered together than the rest. She bent down and, once again, began cleaning off the face of the stone. It was for Lillian Salvatore, who died in 1858. Gwen knew this name, more from research than memories. She was Damon Salvatore’s mother, and her past self’s mother-in-law. Knowing she was close, Gwen moved to the next one. She had only cleaned off about half the stone before making out her own name. Well, her past self’s name.

“Thank god,” Gwen mumbled, setting down her bag to pull out the candles and herbs she needed for the spell. It was a bit difficult, since she had to hold the flashlight and dig through the bag with one hand.

Gwen tried to ignore how weird this was: performing a spell to pull your own magic from yourself. Past self. A version of her was six feet under. Reincarnation was not rare in the witch world, but it wasn’t exactly boasted about either, for safety reasons. What _was_ rare was a witch having to perform this particular spell, meaning the witch’s spirit had not received a proper burial and, therefore, was unable to move on.

It was a common during the witch-hunts in Salem and throughout Europe: A witch’s spirit tended to hover between the spirit realm and the physical world. Those not marked for reincarnation, usually haunted the places they had lived or died. Some acted as what a mortal would call a ghost, but most just gave a place a haunted or eerie vibe to wherever they decided to linger. Mortals would feel a chill in these places, which they usually ignored, choosing to believe it was their mind was playing trick on them. Those marked for reincarnation were eventually reborn and had to perform this spell in order to have full access to their magic.

Gwen took a moment to calm herself, quieting her mind as best she could and steadying her breathing. She was ready. She lit the candles and switched off the flashlight; she needed this to be as traditional as possible. Yes, she was superstitious — she was a witch after all.

She began the chant, repeating the antiquated language three times, as she added the herbs and other ingredients. It was an offering of sorts, meant to encourage the natural forces to aid in her spell. Gwen was never sure if that part was more symbolic than functional, but it seemed to be working. She felt the air charge with magic. The wind picked up too, whipping her around her face. She ignored it and continued to chant, her voice increasing in volume with each repetition.

The wind grew deafening, drowning out even her own voice. Gwen felt the magic flowing through her; it was starting to make her dizzy. _Please let this work, and soon,_ she thought.

The ingredients, which had been simmering in a bowl at the base of the headstone, suddenly burst into flames. It startled Gwen, but she managed to keep from stuttering in her chant. The next moment, she was hit with a force that knocked her backward. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of her, and she grew so hot she thought she would combust.

The wind ceased, the immediate silence unnerving. Gwen was still on the ground, struggling with the after effects of the spell. Her body temperature and breathing returned to normal, but she was still dizzy and could feel blood trickling out of her nose. But she also felt magic humming through her body, stronger than it ever had.

The spell had worked.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**_1856_ **

 

“Will you please pay attention?” Aunt Lila snapped. 

Gwen sighed and turned away from the window. She was struggling through her daily lesson with her aunt. Everyday they had lessons where she was taught witchcraft of all things. Apparently _that_ was the big family secret — one her modern, rational father was fine keeping and allowing her to be taught. 

In addition to witch lessons, Gwen went to finishing school during the week. On Sundays, they even went to church: Witches going to church, it was almost blasphemous. She supposed it was all about maintaining the public appearance of proper ladies, but she no longer knew what to believe. Fourteen years of lies topped with often-conflicting religious thoughts, left her in a hostile mood toward her aunt. After six months in New York, she couldn’t help but act up during lessons.

“Perhaps if I had something to look forward to, I’d be more motivated to pay attention to this archaic religion,” Gwen snapped back.

It was already November, but Lila had yet to say where they would be spending the holidays, or even if her father was coming to New York. She wanted to go home more than anything. However, Lila was strongly opposed to her ever setting foot in Mystic Falls again. She said it was not safe for their kind. Gwen often felt compelled to remind her that her mother had died of a natural illness, not by the acts of witch-fearing mortals. Lila normally responded with “You’ll understand one day,” which only infuriated Gwen even more.

“Your survival is not enough of a reason?” Lila asked, her arch tone turning calm. Gwen stiffened. Lila had become less confrontational with her as of late, trying instead to emotionally manipulate Gwen into cooperating. 

“I think learning this lessens my chances of surviving, don’t you?” Gwen countered. “Or have you forgotten about the Salem witch trials?”

“If you bothered to pay attention to our lessons, you would remember that the Salem witch trials started because of in-fighting among the witches that lived there. The fracture was brought about by working with vampires and werewolves, creatures that have never been able to live in peace and often use witches to try to destroy the other. It is not the mortals you need to survive,” Lila lectured. 

“Maybe witches should stop letting themselves be used,” Gwen muttered.

Lila let out an exasperated sigh. “Tonight, we will be having dinner with Mr. Mikaelson. Perhaps he can make you understand.”

Gwen gave her a confused look, but Lila did not elaborate. “We’re done for the day. Be ready to leave for dinner at six.”

Lila left the attic, their makeshift classroom. She was probably going to her parlor to sew or have tea. Gwen remained in her seat. She did not have anything else to do or anywhere to go, not that she could go anywhere without supervision.

Her father wrote her when he could, maybe once or twice a month, but she had refused to write anyone for the last month. Her friends were unreliable and never had much to say. Damon had never responded to a single letter she had sent him: he was either too angry or longer cared.

Gwen sighed and pulled the family history book, their grimoire, toward her. With nothing to do and no one to see, Gwen figured she might as well learn about witchcraft. But that did not mean she would make it easy for her aunt.

* * *

 

Mr. Elijah Mikaelson was an independently wealthy man. He lived in a mansion a few blocks west of them. It was even bigger than the Fell’s manor back home. She often heard the women and girls in her aunt’s social circle whispering about him. They said he was handsome and charming, like a prince from a fairytale. As a bachelor, many of the women hoped to catch his eye. 

Recently, Mr. Mikaelson had been spending a lot of time with her aunt, causing the women to whisper in excitement and jealousy. Gwen was not so sure their relationship was a romantic one, but, then again, what did she know? 

There was something off about him, Gwen thought. He was charming and always polite, unnervingly so. Gwen had little difficulty believing there was a darker side to him; it was just something in his eyes. Needless to say, Gwen avoided him as much as possible. She was less than thrilled to spend an awkward dinner with him and her aunt. She had stalled for thirty minutes, trying to make her aunt angry enough to just leave without her. It had not worked, and now they were almost an hour late to dinner by the time they arrived. Her aunt sat across from her in the carriage, glaring. She hated to be late.

“You will behave,” Lila hissed under her breath as the exited the carriage. 

“Of course,” Gwen said in mock-innocence.

The butler led them into the sitting room, where Mr. Mikaelson was waiting. He was sitting in a dark green armchair, reading a newspaper and drinking brandy. He set his items aside and stood when they entered.

“Is everything all right? I was about to send someone to see if something had happened.”

Lila looked embarrassed, she actually blushed. “I apologize. I’m afraid one of my maids had mishap in the kitchen, but everything is fine now.”

Gwen turned away, pretending to look at the book titles. She was really trying not to snort and hiding an eye roll. _Sure, he looked really worried,_ she thought.

“I’m glad to hear that everything is well. Shall we adjourn to the dining room? I believe dinner is ready.”

“That would be lovely. Gwen, come along,” her aunt commanded, a bit of sternness creeping into her otherwise pleasant voice. Gwen trailed along after them, staying silent and maintaining a neutral expression.

Dinner was served in the formal dining room, even though it was only the three of them. They were clustered around on end of the table with Mr. Mikaelson at the head and Gwen sitting opposite of her aunt. The adults began discussing the upcoming events of their social group.

Tuning them out, Gwen picked at her food. Since they had been so late and it was only the three of them, the servants had been dismissed after setting the table. She thought the dismissal was odd, but then again, so was he. She went back to wondering why she even needed to be here. What did he know? Was he a witch too?

“Miss Ashwood, I understand that you’re having problems with some of your studies?”

The change of conversation was so abrupt that Gwen only clued into it when her aunt cleared her throat and shot her a disapproving glare for not responding right away.

“Excuse me, I was lost in my thoughts,” Gwen said as politely as she could. “I’m not sure what my aunt has told you, but I am excelling in _all_ of my courses.” It was true. She may not live for learning about spells and potions, but she did seem to have a natural aptitude for it.

“But you do not agree with having to learn a _particular_ subject?” he pressed.

Gwen set her knife and fork down at the subtle reference to her less traditional studies. She had never discussed the family secret with anyone other than her aunt, obviously, but this strange man knew. She composed herself and made eye contact with him.

“No,” she answered stubbornly. “I see no need in learning witchcraft, especially since it requires me to be isolated from family and friends. If I know nothing of it, then why would anyone, or anything, target me?”

“Ordinary mortals become victims of the supernatural all the time. Ignorance never equals protection,” he said, pausing to let his words sink in. “Even if you never practiced and cut off all ties to your coven, you would still be targeted and possibly forced to be a pawn.”

“A pawn? What would anyone want with me?” she asked, bewildered.

“You are a powerful witch, or you have the potential,” he replied. He was leaning toward her now, a smug look on his face. He seemed pleased to have her full attention.

Gwen wished she could put more space between them, he was making her skin crawl.

“You are not, however, all-powerful,” he explained. “Another witch, or even a vampire, who can sense your magic might be tempted to use you for their own gain. Vampires in particular are known for using witches for a variety of purposes, most of which lead to the witch’s untimely demise.”

Gwen would never admit it, but his spiel made sense, more sense than “it’s your heritage,” at least. It had never occurred to her that someone would want to use her because of her magic. But Mr. Mikaelson’s personal concern in the matter eluded her.

“Why do you care? Are you a part of my aunt’s coven?”

His smirk grew and he leaned back into his chair. “No,” he finally answered. “I care for your aunt, however, and she is concerned for your safety. She believes I can help prepare you in ways she cannot.”

“And what makes you special?” Gwen challenged, not caring if she sounded rude.

“Because of what I am, and what I have experienced,” he said, unaffected by her tone. Her aunt, who had been silent and calm during the conversation, stiffened.

“Elijah, please,” she warned.

“She wants to know. More importantly she needs to,” he said, turning to look at Lila. “You cannot hide things from her if you want her to be a part of this world.”

Lila nodded in a resigned manner. She set down her own eating utensils, walked over to the buffet and poured herself a rather full glass of wine.

Elijah turned back to Gwen, but there was something different about his face. The veins seemed to darken, especially around his eyes as they turned black.

“I am vampire. One of the oldest vampires.”

 

* * *

 

 

Oddly, Gwen felt validated that Elijah was different. She had been shocked of course, but could hardly deny what was in front of her: fangs, red eyes, black veins. She reacted instinctively, jumping up from her chair and taking several steps back. Her magic responded too; however, she had not learned any defensive magic and did not how to direct it. It resulted in the candle flames growing to three feet and the dishes clanking loudly against the table.

“Gwen, that’s enough!” Lila shouted. “Control yourself!”

Gwen reigned in her magic, but rounded on her aunt. “I thought you said vampires weren’t to be trusted! You said we never to get involved with them!”

“Calm down,” Lila snapped. She walked over to stand by Elijah, whose face had returned to normal. “Mr. Mikaelson, Elijah, wants to help us. He has learned of a plan that involved using you to bring back a very dangerous vampire. This group seems to believe you have the power to do this. Regardless if this is true, they will come after you. If you are forced to complete the spell, it maybe kill you.”

“This is insane,” Gwen muttered. “Why tell me now? Why not before?”

“I wanted to ease you into this life, but you’ve been so obstinate. I need you to commit to this, to magic. I promised your mother I would protect you, but I can’t do that if you refuse to cooperate.”

Lila was pleading now; whatever this group was and whatever they wanted, they terrified her aunt.

Gwen knew there was more that they were not telling her, but she did not want to hear to hear it. Not now.

“I’d like to go home,” she said, already turning to leave. She did not care if her aunt followed her. She would walk home if necessary.

“All right,” Lila sighed in a resigned manner. “We’ll discuss this more tomorrow. Perhaps you could join us for tea, Elijah?”

“Of course. I’m sorry to have upset you Gwen, but you needed to know,” he said to her retreating back.


	9. Chapter 9

It was dark by the time Gwen made it back to the car, and she was disoriented and weak from the spell. Her mind fought to sort out one life from the other, but she needed to get on the road. With the spell complete, she was in danger of lingering too long; anyone with strong ties to magic in close proximity would have felt that power shift. She couldn’t risk running into a member of her former coven or someone from Mystic Falls, but she wasn’t sure she would remain conscious long enough to get far away.

Throwing her things on the passenger seat, she tried to shake off as much of the dirt and leaves from her trek before getting into the car. She just had to make it to the next town a couple of hours away, but she needed some help to get there. Driving through town couldn’t be avoided, so Gwen made her way toward Mystic Falls as she dialed Helen.

“Gwen, is everything ok?!”

“Yes,” Gwen answered, sounding more winded than she would have liked. “I-I did it. I found the grave and completed the spell. I’m leaving town now.”

“Well, fuck,” Helen sighed, sounding a little surprised. “I knew you could do it. It’s just…wow. How are you feeling?”

“Um, I don’t know. I feel drained and my mind’s a mess.” It was so dark. She hoped a deer wouldn’t decide to run out in front of her. She really couldn’t deal with that at the moment.

“You need to pull over somewhere” Helen said sternly in her mom voice. “The side effects of these spells can be dangerous. You need to find somewhere to recover. At least for a few hours.”

“I will, after I get out of Mystic Falls. You know it would be dumb to stay here.”

“Fine. You call me the second you stop somewhere, understand?”

“I will.”

“Love you. Be safe.”

“Love you, too.”

She looked down, just for a second, to end the call. When she looked up again, there was figure — a man — standing in the middle of the road.

“Shit!” Gwen swerved to avoid hitting him and had to correct before going into a ditch. She slammed on the brakes, causing the car to screech to a stop. Without thinking, she jumped out of the car.

“What the fuck are you doing?! What kind of idiot stands in the middle of the road?!”

The man hadn’t moved. She could only make out his silhouette in the moonlight, but he didn’t seem all that concerned about what had just happened. Shaking her head, Gwen muttered “whatever” under her breath. She did not have time for this. She turned back to the car only to find the man was suddenly in her way.

 _Well, fuck. A vampire_ , she thought, taking a few steps back.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had someone try to leave after they almost ran me over,” he said, amused.

“Call it even. You don’t hurt me, I don’t hurt you.”

He had been stalking toward her, but stopped when she spoke. “Do I know you? You sound familiar.”

“Doubtful. I don’t associate with vampires,” she snapped. She wasn’t sure how her magic would work after the exhaustion, or even if it would work at all, but provoking him was probably a bad idea.

He didn’t respond. Instead, she found herself being moved to stand in front of the headlights. He had used his vampire speed to move them, leaving her even more disoriented. She gripped his arms to steady herself, but pulled away as fast as she could. However, his grip tightened when he saw her face. 

“Let go of me!” she shouted, trying to twist out of his hold.

“Who are you?” he demanded. His tone was cold, dangerous.

Knowing she couldn’t physically fight him off, Gwen went limp in his arms. She focused all her energy on him, causing him to instantly grown in pain as he reached for his head. Gwen took the opportunity and ran back to the driver’s side of the car.

He caught up with her before she could slide into her seat, and threw her against the side of the car. “Damn witches.”

Gwen tried to push herself up, but couldn’t manage more than sitting. The additional spell had taken a toll and the physical pain from hitting the car was not helping. She had come so far, only to be killed by this freak. She tried to hit him another spell, but nothing happened.

“Too drained to fight,” he observed. He picked her up, surprisingly gentle about setting her in the back seat of the car.

Her door slammed, then the driver’s door shut, too. The car was moving. Where was he taking her?

“What…what are you doing?” she finally managed to ask.

“I’m not done with you yet, Gwen.”

* * *

 

 

“What the hell did you do, Damon?” Stefan asked, only mildly annoyed that his brother seemed to have brought home one of his victims.

“Nothing yet,” he said, laying the girl down on the couch. “Well, I may have pushed her into the side of a car.”  
  
“If that’s all, then why is she unconscious? And why is there blood on her face?”

“It wasn’t me,” Damon said, indignant. He poured himself a bourbon and went to stand next to the couch. “She’s a witch, got me with that with the head pain spell Bon Bon does. I figure she must have been doing magic that wiped her out. I probably saved her life, she might have fallen asleep at the wheel.”

Stefan rolled his eyes, not in the mood Damon’s self-congratulatory commentary. “So why did you ‘save’ her?”

“You don’t recognize her?”

Stefan sighed as he stood up from the armchair to look at the unconscious girl on their couch. She was blonde, probably in her late-teens or early-twenties, covered in dirt but pretty, if not a little average. There was something familiar about her…

“No way,” Stefan whispered when he realized who she was.

“Yep,” Damon said, popping the ‘p.’ He downed the rest of his drink. Stefan expected him to throw the glass, but he set it on the table and started running his hands through his hair. Damon didn’t seem to know what to do with himself.

“It’s not possible. She died. You saw the body. I know we say that a lot, but there was proof this time!”

“I’m aware.” Damon answered drily. “She’s a witch. It must have something to do with that.”

“Maybe she’s a distant relative? Like Elena and Katherine?” Stefan offered. With all the drama surrounding Elena becoming a vampire, the last thing Damon needed was to deal with the possible reincarnation of his dead wife.

“Her entire family was killed. And we didn’t…,” He paused, pain flashing in his eye. “She’s not a doppelgänger. That’s….That’s Gwen. I recognized her by her voice.”

“But how?”

Damon shrugged and sat down in the armchair opposite the couch. “I guess I’ll find out when she wakes up.”

Stefan nodded. He had only been fifteen when Gwen had died, only a few months after she married Damon. He had hardly any memories of her, except that she and Damon had been happy. It was probably one of the last times Damon had been truly happy.

“Drink?” he offered, feeling beyond useless.

“Might as well bring over a bottle or two. She’s not waking up anytime soon, and I’m not going to sleep with a witch in the house. Should probably restrain her.”

“We’re not restraining her,” Stefan said, surprised by suggestion. “If she really is Gwen, it’s bad enough you threw her into a car.”

“Hmm, fine. I’ll remind you of that when she’s trying to make your head explode.”

“Did you know?” Stefan asked after about a half hour of them sitting in silence and drinking. The fire was slowly dying, and Stefan could feel the temperature of the room dropping. Damon must have felt it too because he had covered Gwen with a blanket..

“Did I know what?”

“That she was a witch?”

“Well, it was pretty obvious earlier,” he said, resorting to his usual snark.

“I meant before.”

“I know what you meant,” Damon said, slumping in the chair. “Yes, she told me before we got married. She didn’t want to lie to me or trap me in our relationship with her…. It was the reason her father sent her to New York after her mother died: ‘to learn the craft.’ She stopped practicing once she came home.”

“I guess once you’ve been married to a witch, dating a vampire hardly seems out there,” Stefan said. It was a lame attempt to lighten the mood.

Damon snorted derisively. “It’s been so long since you’ve made a joke, you actually forgot how to make one. I told you, you need to have more fun.”

“Who needs fun with the original family of vampire douchebags, vampire ex-girlfriends, and your reincarnated wife running around?”

* * *

 

 

Gwen had passed out in the back of the car, the spells draining her entirely. When she awoke, she found herself staring at the tall ceiling of an older house. Thankfully, one of a windows was open and letting in the sunlight, otherwise the room would be very dark: dark wood, dark colored furniture and rugs. Someone was definitely trying to make themselves look important.

How long had she been asleep? She needed to get out of here, wherever she was _._ Sitting up, she groaned as her whole body ached. Whether it was from the spell or being thrown into her car, she wasn’t sure.

“About time you woke up,” a male voice quipped from behind her.

She turned to see whom it was, immediately disorienting her. She recognized him as the vampire who had attacked her last night. But her brain was catching her up on who he had been to her past self: Damon Salvatore, her husband. She groaned again and hid her face in her hands. _Shit! Did he recognize her?_

“What’s the matter, Gwen?” he asked, sitting down opposite her. “Was whatever spell you did too much?”

“That’s not my name,” she said, deciding to play dumb. Gwen raised her head to meet his gaze, though she had no escape plan. Even if she managed to make him believe she was someone else, there was the strong likelihood he would kill her. “And why do you care what spell I did?”

“Well, this is my home, my town. A witch showing up and doing a spell that knocks her out, that’s never ended well for anyone here,” he said arrogantly. “And that is your name. I checked your license. So cut the crap and tell me what you’re doing here, _dear_.” 

“It doesn’t concern you,” she snapped. Gwen tried to stand up, and instantly regretted it. The world spun as she fell back onto the couch. _The side effects of this spell better be fucking worth all this,_ she thought.

“Hmm, I don’t think you’re going anywhere anytime soon, so you may as well just tell me.”

“Just because I look like her, doesn’t mean I am her,” she shot.

He didn’t react. He only leaned toward her and raised an eyebrow as if to say, “So?”

“The spell I did, it was to pull the rest of my magic from her remains. I’ve done that. I didn’t know you were here. Hell, I didn’t you were a _vampire_. I was on my way out of town when you stopped me. Satisfied? Am I free to leave?”

“I’m never satisfied,” he smirked humorlessly. “Why are you in such a hurry to leave?”

“Several reasons, but they don’t concern you,” she paused. “Unless I stay here too long. Then your home, your life here, would be in trouble.”

“Is that a threat?” he asked, his eyes narrowing and tone darkening.

“Not from me, but I can guarantee your life here will be disturbed if I don’t leave soon.”

“I believe you,” he said after few minutes of a silent stare down. “But you won’t be leaving. One, I don’t think you physically can. Two, I had a Bennett witch place a spell that keeps you contained to this house. She’s the only who can remove it, by the way. So don’t get any ideas.”

“Why?” Gwen asked between gritted teeth, angrier than she had ever been in her life.

“Because in my experience, there’s always fallout from strange visitors. You can stick around to help us deal with it.” Damon stood, looking very pleased with himself. He began walking toward the door and talking over his shoulder. “I put your things in a room upstairs, third door on the right. There’s food in the kitchen for when you get hungry. Make yourself at home, sweetheart.”

The door slammed behind me, leaving Gwen alone and seething. “Fuck you, Damon.”


	10. Chapter 10

“You trapped her in the house?!” Stefan asked, incredulous. “Bonnie, you helped?”

Damon, Stefan, Caroline, Bonnie, and Matt were crowded into a booth at The Grill. Elena had needed to getaway, to figure out how she felt about being a vampire and the potential sire-bond with Damon. Jeremy took her to the lake house for the weekend, over her protests that it would be dangerous for him. That left the rest of the group to handle Gwen.

“It made sense,” Bonnie defended. “Supernatural beings come into this town, and trouble follows. If something happens, she needs to stay and help us deal with it.”

“Still seems wrong to me,” Caroline chimed in, frowning slightly. “I mean, she was on her way out of town. And you said she said she was only a danger to us if she stayed.”

“She could be wrong,” Damon countered, stealing a fry from Matt’s plate.

Matt grimaced, but more because he realized their brief time of peace was over. “How do you guys know her anyway?”

Both brothers avoided eye contact with everyone at the table. Stefan cleared his throat, “Damon, I think you should answer this one.”

“She, uh, we knew her before. When we were human,” Damon said, looking at the ketchup bottle like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“How’s that possible? She’s not a vampire,” Caroline pointed out, her face scrunched in confusion. The hint of a smile appeared on Stefan’s face at her expression; she looked rather cute.

“Reincarnation,” Bonnie answered. “It’s rare, but it can happen. From what I’ve read there’s not really a known reason as to why. It seems almost random.”

“Great,” Matt said sarcastically. He slumped back in his chair and let out an aggravated sigh.

“There’s something about her that you guys should probably know about her, don’t you think, Damon?”

“I don’t think that information is relative, Stefan,” Damon said from between gritted teeth, shooting his brother a glare.

“They’re going to find out eventually. Might as well tell them now,” Stefan prompted.

“Well, now you have to tell us,” Caroline said, a little smirk playing on her lips. “Why would we help you if you’re keeping a secret?”

“Caroline has a point,” Bonnie said, smiling as Damon squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.

“Fine,” he snapped. “We were married. And then she died in fire while pregnant. See you all later.”

He got up from the table and stormed out, leaving Elena’s friends sitting in shock. Stefan was worried; Damon had that I’m-angry-and-going-to-do-something-stupid-in-order-to-deal look when he left. Damon hadn’t talked about Gwen since they buried her more than a century earlier. He preferred to act like it never happened.

Stefan felt a little bad for making him tell the others about her, but they needed to know.

“I did _not_ see that coming,” Caroline said in surprise. Bonnie nodded in agreement.

“Well, shit,” Matt muttered. “Are there any supernatural beings you guys don’t have a connection to?”

Stefan shrugged. “Here,” he said, handing Matt some money to pay for his and Damon’s drinks. “I should probably go after him, make sure he doesn’t do something stupid.” 

All three remained silent, barely acknowledging him as he left. _Maybe one of them will tell Elena,_ Stefan thought, though he wasn’t sure if that would be better or worse for Damon.

“Oh my god,” Caroline said. “Someone married Damon Salvatore.”

“Yep,” Bonnie replied, still shocked.

“I don’t know if I should feel sorry for her, or be terrified of her,” Caroline continued. “Was it an arranged marriage? That was a thing then, right? Maybe she didn’t have a choice?”

“I just can’t imagine Damon as a husband…or a father,” Bonnie shuddered.

“Does it make me a bad person if I think that kid dodged a bullet?” Caroline asked, looking a little embarrassed. “I mean, he would have messed that kid up.”

“Yeah,” Matt said.  “I should get back to work.”

As he made his way back to the bar, he wondered what the chances were of Alex being Gwen. She had just been passing through, and she had been the only new person – that he knew of – in town over the last few weeks. She had also been researching the town’s history. He doubted it was all just a coincidence. 

Fuck. 

Had he slept with Damon’s wife? 

* * *

 

Damon stormed back into the boardinghouse. Part of him realized he was overreacting. It had been more than hundred years since Gwen died. As a relatively functional human, at the time, he should be over it. But seeing her again was, surprisingly, difficult and confusing.

Old feelings of anger and wistfulness had resurfaced. He wanted to hate her for leaving that day, for going over to her father’s against his advice. God knows he had been angry about that for years, but now…. Now, he wasn’t sure about anything.

He could hear her upstairs, talking. He probably should have taken away her phone.

 _“Can’t you leave any sooner?” Gwen asked._ Her voice was a whisper but Damon could still hear her. He took his time going to her room. Maybe he would overhear something useful.

_“Fine. If you hear anything about them heading this way, just stay home. If I can escape, I don’t want them to find out where home is now.”_

“And where is home?” Damon asked, snatching the phone away from her. She hadn’t heard him come up behind her, so she was slow to respond. Taking advantage of that, he finished her conversation. “Gwen has to go now.”

He hung up the phone before pocketing it. Glaring, She folded her arms in front of her. Damon tried to ignore the pain the look caused him; she had never looked at him like that before. Then again, she didn’t hate him in her first life.

“Who was on the phone? Keep in mind I can check caller ID.”

“My mom,” Gwen admitted begrudgingly. “She wanted to know if I was ok.”

Trapped between his body and the dresser, she could not move and she refused to look at him. She did not want to talk about Helen, who was threatening to come for her. Helen had already risked enough, the last thing Gwen wanted was to put her danger.

“And you said?”

“I told her the truth, and I just barely talked her out of coming out here. Could you please move?” she asked, attempting to push him away. He grabbed her wrists and stepped forward, immobilizing her. She grimaced in pain, his grip on her wrists too tight and the knobs of the dresser drawers digging into her back. 

“I’m not going to go after your mom. I just want to know two things: how you’re alive again, and why you needed to perform that magic reuniting spell. Tell me the truth, and I’ll let you go.”

Gwen met his gaze, trying to see if he was lying while also avoiding distraction by his obnoxiously blue eyes. She would never admit out loud that he was attractive, or that she was may have been attracted to him. It was clearly her past self’s memories messing with her. He was a vampire, a liar by nature. His looks only helped to make him a better predator.

“Why should I believe you?” she challenged. He seemed sincere, but Damon was probably good at faking a variety of emotions.

“It’s like you’re determined to not trust me,” he smirked.

“Can you honestly say I should?” she asked, unable to keep the disbelief out of her voice.

“I can’t think of any reason why you shouldn’t.”

“How about attacking and then imprisoning me? Or, you know, just the fact that you’re a vampire? I guess all of that qualifies as reasons to trust you?”

“You say ‘vampire’ like it’s a bad thing,” he pouted.

She rolled her eyes and directed her attention toward the window. His grip on her wrist had not loosened. _I swear, when I can use my powers again…._

“How about you tell me for old time’s sake?”

“We don’t have any ‘old times.’”

“So you don’t remember anything?” Pain flashed through his eyes, but Gwen missed it as she had given an exasperated sigh and tilted her head back against the dresser.

“I have the memories, but not the emotions attached to them,” she lied. Any feelings she may be experiencing were not real, not now anyway.

“So what? It’s like pictures of someone else’s life?” he pressed.

“Basically. Could you let go of me now? I’m starting to lose the circulation in my hands.”

Her wrists were released without comment, but he still didn’t step back. She muttered a “thanks” and shook out her hands to help with the painful tingling as the blood returned. Satisfied she was no longer in pain, Damon grabbed her by the shoulders instead.

“You know,” she snapped in annoyance, “it’s not like I can run away. There’s no reason for you to physically hold me in place.”

“I’m testing a theory,” he said quietly.

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Keeping me trapped here isn’t—”

Damon cut her off by pressing his lips to hers. Her brain hesitated, but it was like her body reacted on instinct. Her hands shot to his hair and shoulder, pulling herself closer to him and deepening the kiss. Damon was surprised she didn’t pushed him away immediately, but it proved his theory: her old emotions were there, his Gwen was somewhere inside her brain.

He guided them backward until his legs hit the bed, and then pulled them both onto it. It wasn’t until he began kssing her neck that she jerked herself away from him. She was flushed, breathing heavily, and looking confused as hell. 

“No emotions, huh?” Damon smirked.

Glancing away, she absently fixed her blonde hair. The front door slammed, causing Gwen to jump.

“DAMON!”

“Up here!” Damon called back, sitting up and straightening out his clothes. A second later, Stefan appeared in the doorway. He was about to say something, but he paused when he took in their appearances.

“Stefan?” Gwen asked, confusion mixing with recognition.

“Oh sure, him you remember instantly,” Damon muttered, a slight hint of bitterness in his tone.

“Well, it’s not the middle of the night on a dark road,” she shot back.

“Am I interrupting something?” Stefan cut in, shooting his brother a glare.

“No, we were just catching up,” Damon said flippantly. Gwen rolled her eyes and scooted away from him. Damon pretended to ignore her movement. “What’s up, baby brother?”

“I ran into Rebekah on my way over here to tell me her mother felt a magical shift of some sort last night. She asked if we knew anything about it,” Stefan explained.

“What? Do witches have their own version of the force, or something?” Damon quipped.

Stefan ignored his brother’s interruption and continued. “I played dumb, but I don’t think she bought it. I overheard her talking to Klaus on the phone, they’re on their way over now.”

“Fucking Originals. Why can’t they mind their own business?” Damon grumbled. He stood up from the bed, gripping Gwen’s upper arm and pulling her after him. “C’mon, we have to make you invisible.”

“Could you please stop manhandling me?” she snapped, trying to tug her arm out of his grasp.

“If I thought you’d cooperate.”

“Damon –”

“Shut up, Stefan. Go get a blood bag,” he instructed. He pulled Gwen into the living room, letting go of her once she was standing in the center.

“Why do you need blood?” she asked, feeling a little nervous.

“I’m going to make you invisible. Well, I’m going to make look like food, which is the same thing,” he elaborated. “I hope those aren’t your favorite clothes.”

She grimaced, realizing she was about to be covered in someone’s blood. Stefan returned from the basement and tossed the blood bag to Damon, who ripped it open and began pouring it down the left side of her neck. It was cold and sticky. She jerked away initially, but Stefan was soon behind her to keep her from stepping away.

“You’re going to need to pretend to be compelled. I’d just compel you, but I’m sure you’ve ingested vervain or have it on you,” Damon instructed. “Just sit there with a blank face. Don’t say anything, and try to keep your heart rate and breathing normal.”

“When you said “Originals,” you were talking about the original family of vampires, weren’t you?” she asked. Damon heard the note of fear in her voice and paused to look at her. She was chewing her lip and had her arms folded across her stomach, but her could still see them shaking a little.

“You’ve heard of them?” Stefan asked, his brow furrowed in confusion and interest.

“Who hasn’t?” she evaded, her gaze focusing on behind Damon.

Stefan raised an eyebrow in question at Damon, who could only shrug. Apparently, Gwen had many secrets.

“They’re not gonna believe all the blood without any bite marks,” Stefan critiqued.

“Excuse me –” Gwen started.

“Just give me a minute,” Damon whispered. He heard a car pulling up the gravel drive. He pulled Gwen over to the couch and had her sit on his lap, so that her right side pressed against his chest. Three car doors slammed outside. Stefan moved over to the bar and poured himself a drinking, affecting a bored expression.

“Breathe through it, and remember what I told you,” he whispered. He exposed the side of her neck covered in blood and bit down, just as there was a knock on the door.

“Coming,” Stefan called. He shot Damon a warning look as he went to open the door.

Gwen’s hands fisted in Damon’s shirt, pretty sure her nails were digging into his skin. The bite was so painful, worse than any spell side effect she had ever experienced. She was trying to monitor her breathing, but it wasn’t doing much. The pain was too distracting. If the Originals weren’t going to kill him, she was definitely planning on it.

Stefan reentered the room, followed by a woman and two men, all wearing haughty expressions and walking like they owned the place. Damon finally pulled away, turning Gwen’s head so she was looking behind him.  She was grateful for the maneuver, there was no way she could have pretended to be a compelled victim.

“Who invited you?” Damon asked, rudely asked the Originals.

“Just checking in, making sure you haven’t had any witch problems,” Klaus said, eying Gwen. “Trying to be good neighbors, you know.”

“Little late for that, don’t you think?”

“Why would we have witch problems?” Stefan asked.

Damon was impressed: his brother even managed the confused, innocent puppy look. He went back to nuzzling Gwen’s neck, pretending to drink more but really stemming the flow. His bite had been shallow and he had avoided the jugular, but he didn’t want her to lose too much blood. He wasn’t sure how the blood loss was going to affect her on top of all the spell side effects — and him throwing her into a car. Plus, it helped him look uninterested in the conversation.

“Our mother traced a spell back to the old Salvatore farm,” Elijah explained. “Naturally, we thought you might be involved.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but witches don’t work with us,” Stefan said.

“The Bennett witch does,” Klaus commented, looking between the brothers.

“That has more to do with Elena than us,” Stefan covered.

“What he said,” Damon seconded, still not looking up.

“Who’s your friend?” Rebekah asked, her expression a mix of arrogance and disgust.

“This?” Damon asked, carelessly shaking Gwen. “Just some sorority girl from Whitmore. You two would probably get along great.”

Rebekah sneered. “Let’s go, they don’t know anything.”

“Enjoy your snack,” Klaus said, following his sister out of the house. “Coming, Elijah?”

“Yes, but I have an errand to run. I’ll see you at home.” His tone was neutral, yet Klaus narrowed his eyes suspiciously before going on his way.

“Good-bye, Elijah,” Damon dismissed, gesturing for him to follow his siblings. “Go tell Mommy there’s nothing witchy here.”

“Gwen will pass out in a few minutes if you don’t stop the bleeding,” Elijah said, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. Damon glared, but gently slid Gwen onto the couch. She was a little pale, Damon admitted.

“Could I get some bandages and a washcloth?” Gwen asked, trying to apply pressure to the bite with the palm of her hand.

“You know, you could just—”

“No,” she interrupted. “Bandages, or stitches if necessary.”

Damon rolled his eyes, “No need to be dramatic.”

Stefan moved to stand in front of Gwen while Damon retrieved bandages and towels. His stance was rigid, though it had more to do with the scent of her blood taunting his addiction. Still Elijah knew too much, which made him dangerous. “How’d you know?”

“Because I know the witch buried on that property, and I know she would be stubborn enough to despite warnings to never come back here,” Elijah droned, coming to stand a few feet in front of Stefan. “After all, she’s done it before.”

“Fuck you, Elijah,” Gwen said, struggling to sit up. Her insult was too breathy, only causing Elijah to smirk in amusement.

“Could you sit still?” Damon asked, reappearing with a couple of towels and a wad of bandages. “You’re getting blood everywhere.”

“Fuck you, too,” she snapped. Damon ignored her, giving her a towel to press to the bite and soak up some of the blood. She continued to glare at him. “Don’t you ever do that again!”

“What? Keep you alive?”

“Bite and feed from me.”

“I had to make it look convincing. And you’re being a little ungrateful,” he snapped.

“You’ll have to forgive her. Witches are notoriously prejudiced against vampires. Most believe we’re abominations,” Elijah explained.

“I’d like to point that absolutely none of this would have happened if it wasn’t for vampires,” Gwen interrupted, turning her glare on Elijah. “I wouldn’t have been killed in that fire; I wouldn’t have been reincarnated; and I wouldn’t have been stopped on my out of town last night after weeks of not running into any vampires!”

“What about the fire?” Damon asked, pausing in his clean up. Gwen’s glare faltered and she dropped her gaze to her knees.

“Forget the fire,” Stefan said.

“Forget the fire?!”

“Not now, Damon,” Stefan said. “Elijah, what the hell is going on?”

Damon clenched his jaw, but resumed helping Gwen.

“I have no idea what her current agenda is,” he started. He walked over to the bar and helped himself to a drink before continuing as though Gwen wasn’t even there. “Whatever that agenda may be, Gwen needed her all her powers and memories to accomplish it. The risk of coming back here must have been overcome by the danger she’s fled. Amazing, considering Klaus used her first life in an attempt to break the Sun and Moon Curse.  Expected to be a powerful witch, she was moved to New York to be with her coven, where she should have been safe. Gwen was told several times that moving back to Mystic Falls was nothing short of suicide.”

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go after _your brother_ killed my coven, including my aunt. You remember Lila, right?” she asked, her anger rising. “You supposedly cared for her.”

“I did care for her,” Elijah said, not reacting to Gwen’s anger. “That’s why I helped you, or tried to help you, before you ran home to where Klaus was guaranteed to find you. He did, and he killed you and your father.”

“So will Klaus try anything now?” Stefan asked.

“He has no use for her. There are more powerful witches than her just in this town,” Elijah answered, as if they were discussing the weather instead of her life. “But he does not always kill for a reason, and Mother would be interested in her. It’s best Gwen leave as soon as possible.”

“I am in the room, you know,” she finally snapped, annoyed at them talking like she wasn’t there to be a part of the conversation. “And I’d love to leave, but their witch friend has me trapped in the house.”

“As soon as she tells me who or what she’s running from — what may be on its way to rain hell on us — we’ll let her go,” Damon said. “It’s that simple.”

“This seems like a _family_ matter,” Elijah said. He set his drink down and straightened out his suit. “I’ll let the three of you figure it out and keep her presence to myself. However, I think you should let her go. Among all the vampires, werewolves, hybrids and witches in town, we’re more than capable of dealing with whatever danger may come after her.”

He left, the only acknowledgement being Gwen muttering, “Go to hell.”

“Gwen,” Stefan said gently. “You need to tell us what’s going on.”

“Fine,” she caved, sighing. “But I have some conditions.”


	11. Chapter 11

Showering and changing into fresh clothes, helped Gwen to calm down. As careful as she was this whole trip, she felt for stupid for getting caught at the last minute. Her magic wasn’t working and she felt like she was being pulled in opposite directions, which was incredibly frustrating.

Gwen had not expected her past life’s memories to have such an effect on her. She found herself wanting to stay in Mystic Falls for Damon. The physical closeness had amplified those past feelings, even his bite didn’t disgust her as much as it should have. But she didn’t belong here. Sighing, she finished towel-drying her hair and left the bathroom.

“Do you have any food?” she asked, walking into the kitchen.

Stefan and Damon were at the table, sitting in silence. Damon was all but glaring, his lip set in a straight line. Stefan had been the one to agree to Elijah’s conditions, which was good enough for her. Bonnie, their witch friend, had been called to lift the spell that was keeping Gwen trapped.

Stefan gestured to the takeout bag of food from The Grill. She sat in the seat across from Stefan and began eating, practically inhaling her food.

“Why do you want to know all this?” Damon asked, slumping in his seat. Was he seriously _pouting_?

“I’m curious,” Gwen answered between bites of food. “I didn’t expect to run into anyone from my past life, obviously. And yet here are the two of you.” She shrugged. If she had to spill her secrets, so should they. Damon was still looking less than thrilled by the idea.

Damon was still looking less than thrilled by the idea. “So, still no emotions?” he pressed.

“Nope,” she smirked, hoping her carefree tone annoyed him. “Just being nosy.”

Damon rolled his eyes and looked away from her. “Why don’t you start, Stefan? I’m not really in the mood to relive it.” Pushing his chair out, he left the room in a huff.

Gwen raised an eyebrow in question to which Stefan only shook his head. “So a few years after you died, Katherine came along…”

After listening to Stefan detail the sordid Salvatore history after she died, Gwen only had one reaction. “Wow. You guys are really fucked up.”

“Yeah,” Stefan chuckled, running his hand through his hair. “That’s a good way to put to it.”

“You guys fell for the same girl twice, doppelgängers to boot, and then he steals your girlfriend. And yet, you’re still here?”

Stefan shrugged. “He’s my brother,” he answered simply. “I believe I met your conditions.”

“Fine,” Gwen said, feigning annoyance. It was easier to be around Stefan. She still saw him as that little boy who used to trail after his big brother, trying to prove that he wasn’t a baby. It was bizarre to see him all grown up.

“My new coven is dangerous, they misuse magic. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were only using dark magic, at this point,” she explained, twisting a napkin in her hands. “They killed my parents — in a fire — six years ago when they tried to leave. It was ruled an accident, of course, but my mom’s best friend knew better. Two days later, we fled. We thought we had escaped them, but three kids from the coven showed up at my college last year and I started dreaming of my past life.

“I knew it wasn’t a coincidence. Helen figured out that I wouldn’t be able to fight them without all my magic, which is why I came back here, and why I was in such a hurry to leave. They must have noticed when I didn’t show up for classes a few months ago, and they probably know what I’m up to. The coven is small, getting smaller with each generation. They need me to be one of them again, and I’m a sitting duck with my powers on the fritz. At least on the road, I have a chance of outrunning them.”

“And what if they show up here and you’re gone? What happens to us?” Damon said from the archway. He was drinking, again. Gwen wondered if it helped him to cope with the bloodlust, or if he had a genuine problem.

“That’s up to you really,” she responded, turning her attention back to the napkin, which was in shreds on the table. “You can tell them everything I’ve told you. It doesn’t seem like much, but they know enough to fill in the holes. Even if you cooperate, they will you and possibly your friends if you don’t tell them everything.”

“Super,” Damon muttered.

“Do you understand now why I was trying to get out of here?” she asked. A horrible thought struck her. “Oh shit.”

“What?” Stefan asked concerned.

“There’s this guy, I kinda hooked up with him a few times.” Gwen hid her face in her hands, a little embarrassed to admit this to them. “He works at The Grill, Matt…I never got his last name. But I’m sure people saw us together, at least the motel clerk did. If they find out about him, he’s in a lot of trouble.”

Stefan glanced at Damon, who was sending a death-glare at his drink. Stefan would have given anything to not be a part of this conversation, but he had to make sure Matt wouldn’t end up in trouble. “What does he know?”

“Not much. He thinks my name is Alex James and that I was in town researching its history for a family friend,” she shrugged helplessly. “It’s just enough for them to think he knows more than he does. Shit!”

“He’s a friend of ours, we’ll keep an eye on him,” Stefan said reassuringly. Well, he would look out for Matt. Stefan had a strong feeling Damon might kill him if he saw him anytime soon. “You should probably get going, unless there’s something else we should know?”

“No,” Gwen said, grabbing her trash and getting up to throw it away.

“Damon, give back her keys and phone,” Stefan said. “We promised.”

“You promised,” Damon muttered, taking another swig of his scotch. She walked over to stand in front of him, and held her hand out.

“Won’t it be better if I’m not here when Elena gets back?”

He shrugged. “Vampire Barbie and Bonnie the teenage witch know about you, so I’ll have to discuss this — along with everything else — when she gets back. It doesn’t matter if you’re here or not.”

“Keys and phone,” she demanded. He fished the items from the pockets of his leather coat, setting them in her outstretched hand. “Thank you. Nothing’s gone missing from my car, has it?”

“Like you have anything I want.”

“Good. Well, it’s been…weird,” she said, putting her phone in her back pocket. What exactly were you supposed to say to your former husband and his brother? “Good luck, I guess.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Stefan said.

“What, something’s gonna happen between the front door and the car?”  she asked in disbelief.

“You’re in a town crawling with vampires. It’s happened before.”

Gwen turned around, thinking she should say something to Damon, but he was gone. Stefan didn’t acknowledge his brother’s disappearance, just motioned for her to follow him outside. “We kept your car in the garage behind the house. I fixed as much of the dent as I could.”

“There was a dent?!”

Stefan grimaced. “Yeah, I’m actually surprised you didn’t need more medical attention. Guess your magic must be working a little.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she mumbled. She climbed into the car and rolled down the driver’s side window. “Sorry about all of this. I really didn’t mean for anyone to get involved. Or to bring up the past."

“It’s fine,” Stefan said, giving her a warm smile. “We’ve dealt with worse. We can handle a few psycho witches. Um...”

He hesitated, looking at the house nervously.

“Something wrong?” Gwen asked, brow furrowed in concern.

“I probably shouldn’t say anything, but,” he paused once more before continuing. “He’s never truly moved on from you. Katherine compelled him to move on, but that broke once we were turned. I know you were only here a day, but his attitude… I don’t know, maybe you could come back when —”

“I can’t, Stefan,” she said, turning away from him. “I don’t know when or if, I’ll be free of my coven, and we’re not the same people anymore. I don’t belong here. I don’t think I ever did.”

Stefan shrugged, looking a little disappointed. “Just think about it?”

“Sure,” she said, though they both knew it was an empty promise. Gwen started the car and backed out of the driveway, forcing herself not to look back and ignoring the part her that protested her leaving. At the stop sign, she programmed the GPS to take her on the most direct path home and pulled out her phone to dial Helen, who picked up on the first ring.

“Thank god! Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I’m on my way I home. I should be there in two or three days,” Gwen said, relief flooding through her. “My magic isn’t working well, but I think that may have been the spell keeping me trapped in the house. I already feel different.”

“They just let you go?” she asked, sounding surprised.

“Yeah. I told them what I was doing, and they let me go. I hardly believe it either.”

Passing a sign that read “You are now leaving Mystic Falls,” she increased the pressure on the gas pedal.

“Let’s hope they don’t try to follow you,” Helen said grimly. She was always suspicious if something was too easy. Gwen couldn’t blame her, but she doubted Stefan or Damon would involve themselves further if it their friends at risk. “Just be careful. Don’t draw attention to yourself, and pay attention to other cars.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t get smart with me, young lady,” Helen said sternly. “This is just the beginning, and the easy part is over.”

“Easy?!”

“You worked hard, but you haven’t had to make any hard decisions yet. I have to get back to work. Text me when you stop somewhere.”

“Ok, bye.”

“Bye.” 

 _Fucking psycho coven._  

* * *

 

“You could have said goodbye,” Stefan groaned as he re-entered the house. 

“Why because it’s polite?” Damon snapped. He was lying on the couch with one arm over his eyes.

“I don’t know, maybe for closure?” Stefan suggested. “Or you could have asked her to stay?”

Damon snorted and swung his legs off the couch. Looking at his brother incredulously, he said, “She couldn’t wait to get out of here. She hates vampires, ergo, she hates m—us.”

“It didn’t look like she hated you this afternoon,” Stefan said, a smug look appearing on his face.

Damon angrily ran his fingers through his hair. “Why are you pushing this? Is this some ploy to get Elena back?” he snapped.

“No, I don’t want Elena back,” Stefan said, serenely, not rising to the bait. “Elena’s not good for you. You’re addicted to the passion of it all, but you both end up making reckless decisions that get a lot of other people hurt. I’m guilty of the same thing, but….I don’t know. I think we _all_ deserve better, and Gwen would be better for you. She was before.”

Damon let out a frustrated sigh. “Yeah, well, we’re different people now.”

Stefan smirked. “Funny, she said the same thing.”

“Where are you going? To find the person that’s “better” for you?” Damon shouted after his brother’s retreating back. Despite his conceited nature, he hadn’t missed Stefan’s emphasis on them all having better options.

“I’ll be back late!” Stefan called back before slamming the front door.

“Stupid, nosy, meddling little brothers,” Damon muttered to himself.


	12. Chapter 12

**_Two days later_ **

 

“Who’s telling Elena about her boyfriend’s wife?” Caroline asked, pouring potato chips into a bowl. A couple of days had passed since the bomb was dropped, but Bonnie and Caroline still had school to worry about. They were supposed to be studying for their upcoming biology exam, but studying had turned into watching bad TV and gossiping.

“Well, preferably her boyfriend,” Bonnie answered, “but it will probably be us.”

Caroline set the bowl of chips down on the coffee table and threw herself dramatically onto the couch next to Bonnie. “Is it really so important she knows? The girl’s gone and she has no intention of coming back.”

“It’s not her we have to worry about,” Bonnie sighed, grabbing a handful of chips.

“Why would Damon tell her? It can only mess things up between them.”

“I doubt he would, unless he was backed into a corner. It’s Damon,” Bonnie said with a roll of her eyes. “But he might decide to go after Gwen, instead.”

“How? Stefan said she never told them where she was going.” Caroline shot Bonnie a confused look, and noticed that her friend was looking guilty. “What did you do?”

“It wasn’t me,” Bonnie said quickly. “But Damon may have put a GPS tracker in her car.”

“Bonnie! Why would you let him do that?”

“I didn’t let him do anything,” Bonnie defended. “At the time, I thought it would be good for us to know where she was in case something happened. But I don’t think he can just let her go; he never lets anything go.”

“Ok, we’ll handle this one problem at a time,” Caroline said, going into taskmaster mode. “First, you are spending way too much time with Damon Salvatore, so stop that. Second, we’re going to have to tell Elena about Gwen because if we don’t it will blow up in all of our faces. If we’re lucky, she’ll break up with Damon and he’ll leave Mystic Falls forever.”

“Caroline!” Bonnie reprimanded, though she was smiling a little. There was a knock at the door, which Caroline got up to answer. 

“Elena!” Caroline said with a little too much surprise. Thankfully, Elena either ignored it or didn’t notice. “When did you get back?”

“About an hour ago. Jeremy said Bonnie was over here, so I thought I’d stop by and spend some time with you guys,” Elena said. She looked much happier than the last time Caroline had seen her, some time away had been good for her. Caroline took to respond, and a nervous Elena asked, “Is that ok?”

“Yes!” Caroline said quickly. “Come in, we have a lot of catching up to do.”

Stepping to the side, she let Elena in. “Look who it is!” she called out to Bonnie, trying to keep the anxiety out of her voice. By Bonnie’s stern glare, she figured she wasn’t very successful. Caroline was not good at lying; so much for a relaxing girls’ night.

* * *

“So, Damon’s married?” Elena asked confused. 

“Well, was. I mean death did part them. I don’t think there’s anything binding them legally,” Caroline supplied helpfully.

“How did I not know about this?” Elena slumped back in the recliner, chewing on her thumbnail.

“It’s Damon,” Bonnie shrugged, then grimaced. “There’s one other thing.”

“We’re just gonna drop everything on her?” Caroline asked Bonnie, raising an eyebrow.

“Might as well,” Bonnie said, looking uncomfortable.

“What?” Elena asked, her nervousness growing.

“When she died,” Caroline started. “She, uh,…. Bonnie, help!”

“She was pregnant when she died,” Bonnie said, her tone as gentle and soothing as possible.

“Oh my god,” Elena practically breathed out.

“I know. I’ve known for three days, and I still can’t wrap my head around it,” Caroline babbled. Bonnie pinched her arm warningly. “Right, sorry.”

“Listen,” Bonnie said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled among them. “Nothing happened. She’s gone now and she’s not coming back. Let’s just pig out on junk food and binge watch bad reality TV tonight. You can talk to Damon about everything tomorrow.”

After a minute, Elena nodded her head and said, “You’re right. We should just relax and catch up. I’ve missed you guys.”

“Yay!” Caroline said, getting up and squished herself into the recliner next to Elena. “I’m so happy you’re home. You’re back just in time to help with the fundraiser next weekend!”

“Caroline, no!” Elena fake-whined.

“No, it’ll be fun,” Caroline insisted.

“She lies,” Bonnie warned in a sing-song voice.

“I do not!”

 

* * *

 

 

Elena woke up early Saturday morning, too restless to lie in bed and wait for her friends to get up. She crept downstairs as quietly as possible, which was ridiculously easy to do as a vampire. Caroline may have heard her, but she didn’t say anything or bother to catch her.

The drive to the boardinghouse was quick. There were hardly any cars on the road, so she made it to the house in record time. Parking her car in the driveway, Elena took a few minutes to get herself together.

“You’re back,” Stefan said, when she finally knocked, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

Elena hesitated, unsure of what to say or how to act in the wake of their breakup. Things had been awkward between them for a while, but at least he didn’t seem angry or uncomfortable to see her. He seemed pretty normal, actually.

“Yeah, got back yesterday,” she said, attempting a smile. “It’s good to see you. How are you?” 

Stefan shrugged, pushing the door open so she could pass him. “Damon’s in his room. I’ll, uh, be in the garage.”

Elena thanked him and made her way upstairs to find Damon. She was about to knock on his door when he called out, “Come in, Elena.”

Smiling, she pushed the door open.

Damon didn’t look as happy to see her as she had hoped. He didn’t stand to greet her, just remained seated at his desk with a forced smile on his face. Bonnie and Caroline must have been wrong; something had happened between Damon and what’s-her-face.

“Hey,” Elena said softly. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better, I’ve been worse. You can sit,” he said, motioning to the end of his bed.

She sat, crossing one leg over the other. She had to work at not bouncing her legs out of nervousness. “So, I guess we have a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah,” Damon sighed, breaking eye contact. “Why don’t you start?”

“Ok,” she said, pausing to collect her thoughts. She wasn’t surprised he refused to start the conversation, just a little disappointed. “I saw Bonnie and Caroline last night. They, uh, they said your wife showed up?”

“Of course they did,” he muttered darkly. “Former wife. Reincarnated. Got her powers back and left.”

“Damon!” Elena said, growing annoyed. “How could you not tell me about her?”

 “Because I don’t about her, not since…. There was no point in bringing her up. And there isn’t now either,” he said, leaning toward her. “Gwen’s gone. She’s not coming back, and I’m not going to see her or talk to her again. I want to be with you, that hasn’t changed.”

Elena had to look away from the intensity of his gaze. He seemed sincere. Could she really blame him for not wanting to talk about losing his wife and unborn child? Elena couldn’t hold that against him. 

She turned back to him with a warm smile. “I want to be with you, too. But I want to figure out how to deal with this sire bond. I think we’ll both feel better if it’s gone.”

Damon nodded. He needed to know if she was truly in love with him. “What do you propose we do?”

Elena looked thoughtful for a moment, and then smirked evilly. “We can pretend it’s the 1800s.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, frowning. He was not going to like this.

“I mean we spend quality time together. We go on dates, but no touching.”

“So we’re going to be a couple of preteens?”

“It’ll be fun,” she insisted. “And we can get to know more about each other before jumping into a relationship.”

“Fine,” he agreed begrudgingly. She smiled in triumph, getting up to hug him. “I thought you said ‘no touching?’”

“Last time,” she laughed, playfully jumping back when he reached for her again.

“Don’t get used to this,” Damon warned. “I’m going to find out how to get rid of this sire bond, and soon. I’m very well-motivated.”

“Good,” Elena said. Smiling, she pecked him on the cheek.


	13. Chapter 13

When Gwen finally pulled into her driveway, it was well after three in three morning. She was exhausted. She had made the drive in three days and stopped only once to sleep. Gwen was happy to be home, and she was positive she hadn’t been followed

She grabbed her purse from the passenger seat, deciding to unpack the rest later. Despite the late hour, she wasn’t worried about making noise since Helen had either just gotten home herself or was on her way home from work.

Once inside, Gwen immediately turned on the entryway light. The house was small with only two bedrooms, but they layout was more cozy than crowded. She dropped her bag to the floor and made her way toward the kitchen, only noticing the light in the living room as she walked. Maybe Helen was home already? It was wasteful to leave on lights they weren’t using, a longtime rule in the house.

“Hey, I’m back,” she said cheerfully. “Did you —”

Gwen abruptly stopped talking and screamed. Helen was lying in a pool of blood in the middle of the living room. Her eyes, still open, were glassy and her mouth was set in a silent scream. There were symbols carved all over her: her arms, her neck, and stomach. And Gwen could see burn marks as well. Without realizing it, she had fallen down next to Helen’s body.

“No, no,” she sobbed. “Please, no.”

Cradling Helen’s head in her lap, Gwen sobbed into her hair. She was so distraught, she didn’t notice the other people in the room until someone pulled her away from Helen’s body. She tried to twist herself out the stranger’s grip, but he was too strong.

“Let go of me!” she yelled.

“I don’t think so,” a bored voice drawled from next to her. She turned her head to see who had spoken. It was a woman, probably in her late twenties or early thirties. A few inches taller than Gwen, she had black, curly hair that stood out against her tan skin and black, empty eyes.

“I had to travel all the way out here to get you because these idiots,” she paused nodding to the man holding Gwen and the red-headed girl, who was standing across the room and holding an athame dripping with blood, “couldn’t even manage to befriend and invite you out to Virginia for the holidays. Too bad, really. Helen might still be alive if they had succeeded.”

“Shut up!” Gwen yelled, anger flooding her. How could this woman be so flippant? She just killed someone.

“You should have heard her screaming and begging,” the redhead taunted.

Gwen, who was still getting used to being at full power, lost it. In her rage, the redhead was thrown into the wall with a sickening crunch. The grip on her arms tightened and the woman turned to her, surprise evident in her expression.

“I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way,” the woman said, recovering her composure. “Elaine, please bring me the potion. John, immobilize her.”

“I won’t take it,” Gwen said, glaring. She felt her body go stiff, knowing she wouldn’t be able to fight them anymore. She cursed herself for taking too long to react.

“Oh, honey,” the woman said pityingly. “You won’t have a choice.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I know you like to work the mystery angle, but it’s getting really old,” Stefan complained. They were on their way to New Orleans since, apparently, Damon had experienced a sire bond once before. A witch had helped him break it then, though he wouldn’t say how. This time, they needed to find this witch’s descendent.

“But it makes our lives so much more fun,” Damon quipped. 

“You and I have very different definitions of fun. Is there reason you didn’t mention this whole thing sooner?”

“I forgot,” he shrugged. “Charlotte was just a blip in my very long life.”

“Nice,” Stefan mumbled. “So we find the witch, break the sire bond, and you and Elena live happily ever after?”

“Sounds about right. You sure you want to talk about this?”

“I’m helping you figure out how to get rid of the bond. I think I can handle talking about _some_ of the consequences of doing that.”

“Consequences? What are you getting at?” Damon asked, growing suspicious.

“Nothing,” Stefan said innocently. “Just that maybe breaking the bond opens up some other options for you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know you and Bonnie are tracking Gwen’s car. Why do that if you’re not planning to go after her?”

“Who told you?” Damon asked, ignoring the question. “It was Blondie, wasn’t it? You two have been spending a lot of time together lately. Is something going on between —”

“Nice try,” Stefan interrupted. “It just seems like maybe you want to break the bond so you don’t feel guilty when you decide to go after Gwen.”

“I’m not going after Gwen. I want to be with Elena,” Damon said stubbornly. “Besides, it’s been two weeks since she left and nothing’s happened. I’m going to turn it off when we get back.”

“Whatever you say. Hey, could you give me her location before you do? I was always a little attracted to her, and if you’re not interested….”

“Shut up, Stefan.”

 

* * *

 

“I don’t think you broke the bond,” Stefan said slowly. They had found Charlotte standing on a street corner and counting bricks, just as Damon had left her.  Ecstatic at his return, she immediately attached herself to Damon’s side.

“You think?”

“I knew you’d come back,” the girl babbled excitedly. “I didn’t think it would take so long. Obviously, something must have happened to you. Are you all right? You seem well!”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Damon snapped. “Just stop talking!”

She stopped talking immediately, looking a little hurt. Stefan shot him a reproachful look, but Damon ignored them both. 

“Who are we looking for?”

“Valerie LeMarche,” Damon said, dragging Charlotte. “She had a shop on the Quarter during the war.”

“If she didn’t help you before, what makes you think she will now?”

“She won’t have a choice this time,” Damon said simply.

“Sure, that always ends well,” Stefan grumbled. “What if the shop isn’t there anymore?”

“Stop being so negative, it’ll be there. Witches don’t leave unless they have to.”

Stefan trailed behind his brother and Charlotte, keeping an eye out for anyone that might be following them or taking too much interest in them. No one seemed to be paying attention to them, but New Orleans was a hotbed of supernatural beings; they had to be careful to not make themselves stand out.

“Well this is where it was,” Damon said, pointing to a small shop across the street. The sign in the shop window read “Nandi’s Specials.” Damon frowned slightly at the building. After a moment, his faced shifted to a neutral expression and he crossed the street, not bothering to pay attention to anyone as he walked.

Stefan followed after him, hoping that they would find the answer here and be able to go home without running into any conflict. With Damon was involved, though, that was unlikely.

 

* * *

 

“What do you mean the bond can’t be broken!” Your mother said —”

“You can’t be that stupid,” Nandi cut-in, raising an eyebrow. “That girl in the front of my shop looks pretty bonded to me.”

Damon was seething. Worried he might do something to Nandi, Stefan slowly inched his way closer to her in case he needed to stop his brother. He would like to not leave any bodies behind, for once.

“Then why the hell did I kill all those people?!”

“It helped her access and use Expression. Dark magic,” she added when she noticed their blank stares. “Using that kind of magic requires a sacrifice.”

“So what do I do about these ridiculous sire bonds?” Damon asked, feeling defeated.

“Tell these girls to move on. Tell them that the only way for you to be happy is if they move on with their lives, forget you, and never think about you again,” she said gently. “I’m sorry, but magic can’t break this.”

“Fuck!” Damon shouted before storming out of the shop. Stefan heard Charlotte scamper after him, and he muttered a quick thanks before going after them. If Charlotte wasn’t careful, she was going to push Damon over the edge.

Stepping out onto the street, Stefan couldn’t see or hear them. It was busier now with people on their way to dinner or visiting the shops along the street. He groaned. They had passed a number of bars on the way to the shop; maybe Damon had gone for a drink.

After about five minutes of walking, Stefan ran into Charlotte loitering on the street. She was looking at a dress in a shop window.

“Charlotte, where’s Damon?”

She was startled by his appearance. Her eyes widened, taking a step back. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know you. Please leave me alone.”

Charlotte tried to turn away, but Stefan grabbed her upper arm to stop her. “You don’t remember me?”

“I’ve never seen you before in my life. Now, let go,” she demanded as she tugged her arm away from him.

“Wait, did you see a guy with dark hair and blue eyes? Around my height? Probably pissed off?” 

“Yes, actually. Over there,” she said, looking confused and pointing to a bar across the street. “He was going on about me moving on with my life.”

“Thank you, and good luck,” Stefan said. He left her to duck inside the bar, where he found Damon already surrounded by empty shot glasses. He was watching the flat screen TV that was hanging over the bar. There was a football game on, but Damon was not really interested in it. Stefan sat in the chair next to him, not really sure what to say.

“We’ll figure something else out,” he finally said.

“How?” Damon asked pessimistically. He ordered two more shots. “Magic won’t break it.”

“There has to be something,” Stefan said, racking his brain for a possibility. “Besides, Nandi says these bonds form because the human had strong feelings for the vampire that sired them. So, worst case scenario, you have to be more careful about your word choice around Elena.”

“Sounds super easy,” he said sarcastically. After a few minutes, he said, “I can’t have a real relationship with her with this sire bond in place. I’ll always wonder….”

“I know,” Stefan said, stealing one of Damon’s shots. “I was just trying to help.”

“Thanks.”

They sat there in silence for about half an hour. The bartender seemed surprised at how much they were drinking, but continued serving them. Stefan was paying the tab when he noticed a familiar face on the TV. 

It was a picture of Gwen in her high school graduation gown and a woman beaming with pride. Stefan guessed that must have been Helen, the woman who took care of Gwen after her parents were killed. The photo was running as part of news segment.

The reporter was saying Gwen had been missing for almost two weeks. Her adopted mother’s body had been found mutilated inside the torched house, but there had been no sign of Gwen since then. At the end of the news segment, the reporter urged anyone with any information to call the police.

“Shit,” Stefan said.

“I know,” the bartender said as he counted out Stefan’s change. “Poor girl. It’s been two weeks, and no one’s heard from or seen her. After what those people did to her mom, she’s probably dead.”

Stefan took his change and looked at Damon. Against all logic, he seemed to have paled.

He was frozen; his last shot paused halfway to his lips. Once his brain began working again, he slowly lowered the drink.

“Damon?” Stefan tested. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw his brother this lost.

“We need to go, now.” Damon was up and walking out the door before Stefan could process what he had said. He was actually jogging to keep up with his brother.

“Where are we going?”

“Home. I’ll track her car; the reporter said it was missing too. Maybe get Bonnie to do a locator spell to be sure and give me a few witch neutralizing potions.”

“Damon, you can’t go after her by yourself. Not against that coven.”

“Sure, I can. Get in the car.”

“This is insane,” Stefan said, sliding into the passenger’s seat. He hadn’t even closed the door when Damon started driving. “We need a plan. And what about the sire bond?”

“I can plan on the drive…. I have to do this. I have to at least try to help her.”

The desperate pain on his brother’s face and in his voice made Stefan shut up. He knew Damon, wrongly, blamed himself for Gwen’s death. He was supposed to have gone with her that afternoon, but had been sidetracked by their father. Damon always believed he could have done something if he had been there, and Stefan was past the point of saying that he probably would have died too.

“We probably need a couple of contingency plans, too,” Stefan said. “I don’t think we can wing it against a powerful coven.” 

“You sure you want to come along on this?” Damon asked. “Plenty of people are going to be pissed at us for going after her, including Gwen.”

“They’ll get over it. We need to help her. In a way we’re the only family she has.”

“You’re a better brother than me,” Damon muttered.

“I know,” Stefan said smugly. “So, what’s the plan?”


	14. Chapter 14

**_1861_ **

 

It had been five years since Gwen had left Mystic Falls, yet nothing appeared to have changed.

From the carriage she could see the same shops, the same people milling around the street, going about their same routine. It was an odd feeling to be back, like she no longer belonged. She had changed so much, but she didn’t have anywhere else to go. Her aunt was dead, as was the majority of her coven.

The vampire hunting her, Klaus, had attacked them at a weekly meeting. The only survivors were those not present, and they quickly fled New York. Afraid to have anything to do with Gwen, they cut off all contact. Elijah had offered her his help, but Gwen no longer trusted him. He had not been able to save her aunt _from his brother_ — a fact he had neglected to mention over five years — and she doubted he could protect her, if he even wanted to. In spite of her father’s protests and fear, she returned to Mystic Falls.

The carriage came to a stop, and she waited impatiently for the driver to get down and let her out of the carriage. The driver was an old man, his eyesight was poor and the long drive had clearly taken a toll on him. She was thankful he did not try to help out of the carriage; he might have pulled her into the mud.

Gwen picked up her lone bag. Needing to leave quickly, she had only packed the essentials. She hoped she had not left any clues behind in her haste. She did not want to make it easier for Klaus to find her, though he probably knew more about her than she liked. It wouldn’t matter if he found Mystic Falls, however, as her father was already making plans for them to leave.

A man rushed toward her. He was flustered and slightly out of breath. She recognized him as a member of a founding family, but she couldn’t remember his name. “Hello, Miss Ashwood, my apologies for being late,” he said when he reached her.

“Hello?” she responded hesitantly. Her confusion must have been obvious because he began explaining quickly, so quickly she was surprised to understand anything he said.

“Matthew Fell. Doctor Fell, actually. I’m your father’s physician. He asked me to escort you home, as he was unable. I had another appointment and it ran a little late, I’m sorry for making you wait.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I’ve only just arrived,” she reassured him. “Is my father ill?”

“It’s just a minor case of the flu. He should recover in a few days,” he said dismissively. Taking her bag, he offered his arm. She accepted out of propriety’s sake. “How was your journey? I imagine travelling alone was rather…stressful.”

She did not miss the disapproval in his tone, but chose to ignore it. Gwen was more than capable of defending herself if necessary. “It was fine, uneventful. It’s hard to believe how unchanged this place is.”

Gwen hated mindless, polite conversation. Yet it was expected of her, especially if they were _walking_ all the way to her father’s estate.

“Change isn’t always a good thing,” Dr. Fell said. “I realize big cities like New York are all about change and the future, but reliability and tradition are just as important. Don’t you agree?”

Gwen gave a noncommittal hum; she knew her opinion mattered little to him. What he failed to realize that things changed whether you wanted them to or not.

“You packed light for a woman,” he commented after a few minutes of them walking in silence. She fought the urge to roll her eyes from him. She wished George had been sent to get her or that she could have just walked home alone. Was George ill too? Was he no longer working for her father?

“I don’t own much,” she replied, using her most sickly-sweet voice. “Material items don’t bring happiness.”

He chuckled. “Were you living with the Quakers?”

“No, my aunt just believed in a simple existence.” It was half-true; witches believed in a simple life. They thought it helped with to be closer to nature, which they used in their magic. However, they would never part with their wealth, not when it allowed them to live comfortable and lavish lifestyles. It also helped them to pay off anyone who grew too suspicious of the coven.

“That’s a refreshing point of view coming from a woman.”

Forcing a smile, Gwen picked up her pace. She wanted nothing more than to get away from this man and see her father. She had a difficult time believing Dr. Fell’s opinion of her father’s health. Thankfully, her family’s estate was closer to town than most, and they arrived quickly. Once inside the house, she thanked him and made an excuse about needing to rest. He easily believed her lie and left without checking in on her father.

Mrs. Brookes took her bag and lead her upstairs. “Do you need anything, Miss Gwen?” the housekeeper asked as they climbed the chairs. Gwen wanted to offer to carry her own bag — she could see the woman was struggling — but knew doing so would only offend Mrs. Brookes.

Witches had to be self-reliant in their magic: growing herbs, brewing potions, and cleaning the tools. As a result of her training, Gwen had grown used to helping out with the household chores. Her aunt had a couple of maids, but her duties had natural extensions for the good of the house. It was no trouble to care for the main garden when tending to her herbs, or to wash her utensils right after the dishes. The maids never said anything of it, probably because they were used to her aunt acting the same way. Gwen supposed they also appreciated the help.

But things were different here. Everyone had their place and expected behavior according to their rank. To deviate from norms meant risking gossip and ostracism, which was a large part of why things never seemed to change in Mystic Falls. Those with the power refused to let anything threaten the status quo.

“Would you bring some tea to my father’s room?” she asked. “I’m going to check in on him first.”

“Very well. Shall I unpack your things?”

“No, I’ll get to it later. Thank you.” Walking to her father’s bedroom door, she missed the surprised look on Mrs. Brookes’ face.

She was nervous, unsure of how ill her father really was. Taking a deep breath, Gwen knocked.

A gruff voice called, “Enter.”

“Hello, Father,” she greeted, opening the door. “How are you?”

Thomas’ face broke into a smile upon seeing his daughter. It had been two years since his last visit to New York, and he was surprised by how much older Gwen seemed. Gwen was relieved. He looked tired and a little pale, but seemed fine otherwise.

“It’s so good to see you, sweetheart,” he said, giving her a one-armed hug. “How are you?”

Sitting next to him on the bed, she gave a sad smile. “I’m all right. I wasn’t there when…when he attacked them. I never thought I would miss her so much.”

“You’ve been through a lot,” Thomas said gently.

“Hmm. How are you feeling?” shed asked, concerned.

“I’m fine,” he reassured her. “It’s just a cold. A day or two, and then I’ll resume finding us a new home. I was thinking somewhere out west.”

“I’m sorry about all of this.”

He took her hand to give a comforting squeeze. “This is not your fault. There’s no need to apologize, it’s my job to protect you. My reasons for staying in Mystic Falls are not more important than taking care of you.”

“Thank you,” Gwen said, squeezing his hand back. “But I think we should call another doctor to come check on you.”

He chuckled. “Doctor Fell’s bedside manner may be lacking, but he knows how to do his job. I know you must be tired, but there is a small dinner party at the Lockwood Manor tonight. Go in my place, it will be a good distraction for you.”

“I should stay here and look after you,” she countered.

“Mrs. Brookes and the other maids are perfectly capable,” he said dismissively. “And before you say it, you do have a dress. Mrs. Brookes had a few dresses made for you. They’re in your wardrobe. The Gilberts will pick you up at seven, so I suggest you go rest for awhile.”

“I never had a choice, did I?” Gwen asked, pretending to glare at her father as he laughed.

* * *

  

Gwen was nervous. She had expected a few days at home with her father and the household staff, yet she was to face the rest of Mystic Falls right away. The Gilberts were kind to her, at least. They welcomed her back, though uninterested in the details of her return past the fact that her aunt died suddenly. After all, the Gilbert family did not pry into other people’s private matters.

Well, the surviving ones didn’t. Elizabeth Gilbert had been a notorious gossip, but she fell to consumption two years past. Her husband, Nicholas, was well-matched as a quiet man who kept to himself unless he felt strongly about something. His eldest child, Jonathan, took after him. From what Gwen remembered of Jonathan, he had gone to a university up north to study science and philosophy.

Sarah was a bityounger than Gwen. She was more talkative than her father or brother, probably feeling the need to ease the awkward silence. On the carriage ride over, she told Gwen all about the finishing school in Pennsylvania where she had met her fiancé. Richard Sterling had a plantation down in Georgia. He was well-read, handsome, and very rich, altogether a perfect match for any young woman.

Both Gilbert siblings had dark brown hair and eyes and a fair complexion, conventionally attractive for the times. Gwen would even say that Sarah was beautiful, like the girls she saw in the newspapers advertising beauty products. Her natural beauty was uncommon for Mystic Falls, and Gwen was not surprised she had managed to attract such an accomplished suitor. Still, she hoped their marriage would be more than superficial pride and convenience.

Deciding that she and Gwen were going to be best friends, Sarah dragged her away from the men as soon as they entered the party. She prattled on the whole time they were at the refreshment table, all about the ongoings in Mystic Falls. Gwen was only half-listening, but had to admist the dramatics of it all was interesting. More importantly, it was a good distraction.

“What about you?” Sarah asked, pausing to take a sip of her wine. “Were there any gentlemen callers in New York?”

“Oh, um.” Gwen was caught off guard by the question, and she took a sip of her own drink before answering. “There were a couple of callers, but no engagements. I’m not as lucky as you.”

Sarah shrugged, unconcerned. Gwen was surprised; she had been expecting Sarah to pity her. “There are plenty of eligible men here. My brother, for example, though I don’t think you two would be a good match. You’re too spirited for him. He’d bore you.” Noticing Gwen’s surprise and confusion, Sarah quickly said, “I remember you from before. You were always causing trouble with Damon Salvatore. You were a bit of hero to some of us. Our mothers were terrified we would follow in your footsteps.”

Gwen laughed. She had forgotten about her reputation. It had been so long, and she was hardly that same girl anymore. “I fear I’m going to disappoint you. I’m not the rebel I once was.”

“Pity,” she said, pretending to be upset. “This is place is so boring. I was really hoping you’d stir up some trouble upon your return.”

Sarah Gilbert’s outward appearance of a pretty, polite, and quiet woman was misleading of her character. She was a woman who lived for excitement and whatever came with it. Gwen could see them being friends, even with her non-stop talking.

“He’s still here, you know,” Sarah continued, a contemplative look on her face. “And unattached.”

“Who?”

“Damon Salvatore.”

Gwen felt her nerves flutter for a minute. She had been trying not to think about him or what she would do if she saw him again. There was no ill will between them, but any interaction with him was bound to be uncomfortable. Once good friends, they were nothing to each other now. She did her best to act indifferent.

“I’m surprised,” she said, perfectly composed. “He always talked about leaving.”

“Who doesn’t?” Sarah asked with a snort. “Even those who go to university or finishing school come back, look at us.”

“You’ll be moving to Atlanta once you’re married,” Gwen pointed out. “And there was a time I didn’t want to leave.”

“Really?”

“I know. It’s hard to believe.”

The dinner bell rang, effectively ending their private conversation. The guests filed toward the dinning hall, and Gwen noticed a few curious glances thrown her way. She was thankful to be sitting next to Sarah, who was whispering the names and occupations of those around them. It was a helpful refresher.

“Miss Ashwood, what brings you back to Mystic Falls after so many years away?” Mrs. Roberts asked from across the table. Her husband owned one of the shops on Main Street, but Gwen could not remember which one.

“My aunt passed away, and I missed home,” she responded, deciding to keep her answer simple.

Mrs. Roberts pulled her face into one of feigned pity. “Oh, I’m so sorry dear.”

“Thank you,” Gwen said, trying to be as polite as possible. She was starting to understand why the Gilbert men were so quiet; pretending to be polite was difficult. Mrs. Roberts quickly turned her attention to the woman next to her.

Only Sarah spoke to Gwen for the rest of dinner, and she used the brief reprieve when Sarah as pulled into another conversation to observe the other guests. Mr. Gilbert and his son seemed to be in a deep discussion for most of dinner. As soon as the dinner finished, they were all dismissed for dancing.

“Well, that was only slightly painful,” Sarah muttered to Gwen, who nodded in agreement.

“How long do these dances normally last?”

“All night, but Father almost always leaves around eleven. We only have a few more hours.”

“Thank god.”

“I know. Dinner parties were so much more fun in Pittsburgh,” Sarah sighed. “What were they like in New York?”

“Pretty much like this,” Gwen shrugged, though the magic often made them more fun. “I’m really not one for big parties.”

Sarah nodded, but did not seem to really hear her. “Do you still ride?”

“Of course,” Gwen said, slightly confused. “Why?”

“I took it up, but none of the girls here do. We should go on a ride together sometime, escape the constant chaperones.”

“That sounds fun, and I’m still pretty good at outsmarting my chaperones.”

Sarah’s eyes glinted with excitement. She was asked to dance by one of the local boys, and excused herself. Shortly after she left, Jonathan joined Gwen.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked, looking uncomfortable.

“That’s very kind of you, but it’s really not necessary,” Gwen said, trying to give him an out.

“It really is,” he insisted, offering his hand. She accepted and Jonathan led them to the dance floor.

“Your father?” she questioned.

“No, my father does not pay much attention to social customs. It was our hostess, Mrs. Lockwood.”

“Well, I’m sorry to have pulled you away from your conversation. You seemed very invested in it,” she said, trying to make small talk to cover the stilted encounter. He was a decent dancer, contradicting her assumption that he would be a bit clumsy.

“Oh that,” he said, glancing away from her. “Just a scholarly debate. Nothing we can’t resume after. Beside, I can’t abandon such a pretty girl in such a hostile environment.”

Gwen feigned bashfulness at his compliment. “You’re very kind.”

“Mind if I cut in?” a voice asked from behind Gwen.

Jonathan stopped dancing, looking unsure. Gwen turned a little so she could see who it was. It was a young man about her age. He was about half a foot taller than her and had dark hair and blue eyes; Gwen would have sworn her heart stopped when she realized who it was. This was hardly how she wanted to be reintroduced to Damon Salvatore.

“If it’s acceptable to Miss Ashwood,” Jonathan said, defaulting to her wishes. He probably hoped she would accept Damon’s offer so he could return to his discussion. She nodded numbly and forced a smile. Jonathan handed her to Damon.

As they danced, Gwen noticed a group of girls staring at them and whispering. Some seemed to be glaring at her. Damon led as she struggled to figure out what to say to him.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” he said in the place of a greeting. His stare was cold and his body stiff.

“My aunt didn’t enjoy traveling, so my father  would make the trip to New York. I didn’t have the opportunity to come back before now,” Gwen said, working to keep her tone light.

“Your aunt finally changed her mind on traveling?”

“No,” Gwen said, refusing to look him in the eye. She kept her gaze fixed over his left shoulder. “She passed away.”

She felt Damon staring at her, but refused to look at him. “No one knew you were coming back, you’ve caused quite the stir.”

“I did not realize my presence would cause such a disturbance. I only wanted to come home and be with my father.”

The song came to an end. Gwen stepped back from Damon and curtseyed. “Thank you for the dance, Mr. Salvatore.” 

Turning to leave, Gwen headed outside to get some air. She was suddenly having a difficult time breathing. Why did seeing him affect her so much? She walked along the veranda, calming herself.

“That was a little rude, don’t you think?” a voice drawled from behind her. Whirling around, she found Damon leaning against one of the pillars.

“I wasn’t feeling well,” she lied. “Is there something you need, Mr. Salvatore?”

“I need to stop calling me that,” he said, walking toward her. He sounded annoyed, and it was hard to make out his expression. 

“What am I supposed to call you?” she asked, surprised at how innocently naïve she sounded. She nervously twisted her hands into the skirt of her dress.

“What happened to you, Gwen?”

“My mother died, I forced to leave my home, and I lost all my friends in the process,” she said, dropping the act of propriety. Her voice was hard, and she was glaring at him, not that he could see. “And I’m sorry, but I don’t understand why you seem to be angry.”

“You just left,” he practically hissed.

“Did you not hear what I just said? Or read any of the letters I wrote?” she snapped. “I did not have a choice. My father and aunt said I had to leave and refused to let me come back.”

“Why?” Damon asked. He sounded confused, but she could hear a note of disbelief.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, growing frustrated. “I need to go.”

She went to walk past him, but he grabbed her arm to stop her.

“What do you want?” she asked exasperated.

“To understand what the hell happened!”

“I’ve already told you what happened. There’s nothing else I can say.”

“So that’s it? You’re just going to pretend we were never friends?”

“I’m not pretending. We were friends, but we’re not anymore. That was your choice. I don’t know you anymore and you don’t know me. All I can do is be a polite human being,” she snapped. “Now please let me go, I need to rejoin my party.”

Damon let her go, storming away from her. She sighed and smoothed out her dress. When she returned to the dance hall, Sarah had just finished dancing with her fourth partner. She was a little flushed from all the dancing, but looked like she was having a good time.

“There you are,” she said, looping her arm with Gwen’s. “Father is ready to leave. I was just coming to look for you. Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m just a little tired,” she lied quickly. “I’m ready to go.”

Sarah accepted her excuse as they left to go find Mr. Gilbert and Jonathan. The carriage ride back was quiet. When they arrived at ther father’s house, Gwen thanked them for the invitation and the company. Sarah promised to call on her the next day for tea. Gwen smiled, looking forward to it.

One of the younger maids was waiting for her when she let herself into her room. “What’s your name?” Gwen asked as the girl immediately moved to help her remove her dress.

“Emily Middleton,” girl responded quietly.

“Do you prefer to be addressed as Emily or Miss Middleton?”

Emily gave her a blank look and then shrugged. “Mrs. Brookes addresses me as Emily, so I suppose that’s what I prefer. Is there anything else you need, Miss Ashwood? There’s clean water in the basin for you to wash with and your night clothes are laid out on the bed.”

“That’ll be all. Thank you, Emily,” Gwen said, giving the girl a small smile.

“Good night, Miss Ashwood.”

“Good night.”

Gwen sat at her dressing table to take down hair and washed her face. Too tired to do more than just the basics, she would have to do a more thorough cleaning the next day. Sliding into bed, she tried to not think about her interaction with Damon, but failed. What right did he have to be mad at her?

She had written to him several times without response before deciding he must not want anything to do with her. He had ended their friendship, through no fault of her own.

Gwen sighed and pulled the blankets up over her head. Too much had happened in too short of time. She rolled onto her stomach and focused on her breathing. Soon, she had quieted her mind enough that she was able to slip into a mostly restful sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Present Day** _

 

Gwen groaned. She was lying on the cold cement floor of her cell, having undergone another round of psychic attack. This had been going on for days. When the witches realized the physical torture wasn’t going to make her cooperative, they had decided to attack her mind. Most of it was just to inflict pain, but they had started to make her relive painful events from her life. Their favorite was to show her Helen’s death over and over again. Gwen curled up on the floor, a broken sob escaping her even as she struggled to stay quiet.

“You could end this you know.”

It was Tina, the woman who had brought her here, second in command of the coven. Gwen had never actually met their leader. From what she had overheard, his name was Zach, and almost everyone was deathly afraid of him.

“Fuck off,” Gwen snapped.

“You’ve been born into this coven twice, you belong to it,” Tina continued as if Gwen had never spoken. “If you agree to join us, to go through the initiation, all of this pain ends. Your power would increase beyond anything you can imagine. You could even bring back Helen.”

“You’re lying,” Gwen gasped. The torture may have been psychic, but there were still physical side effects. She had suffered a bloody nose and felt as if she had been running for days. Her body ached and she struggled to get her breathing under control.

“I’m not,” Tina said, her surprisingly gentle and sincere. Gwen knew she was trying to manipulate her. Tina crouched down so that she was level with Gwen and continued her sales pitch.

 “With Expression, you have power over life and death. You can alter fate!”

“I said to fuck off!” Gwen said with as much force as she could muster. “My parents and Helen _died_ to keep me out of this coven. I’m not going to dishonor their deaths by becoming a part of it.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Tina said, her tone darkening. “You could also say they died to keep you alive. And if you die now, their deaths mean nothing. I’ll let you think about that.”

As soon as Gwen heard the door to the basement shut, she let out a heart-wrenching sob. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold out. Her food and drink were laced with a potion that kept her magic dormant. If she refused to eat, they simply forced her to drink the potion directly when she did that. Unable to escape, she would have to let them kill her or join their coven.

Gwen didn’t want to disappoint her parents or Helen, but…she didn’t want to die either.

 

* * *

 

 

“You’re sure about the location, Bonnie,” Damon asked for the twelfth time in five minutes. 

“Yes!” she snapped. “Not only have I scried three times for her, but we tracked the car to just outside of Salem, Massachusetts, where the coven was based until the mid ‘90s. The spell reveals her location is about a hundred miles from where the car is.”

“But the spell says she in the middle of nowhere. Every map shows empty land,” Damon challenged.

“You said they’re a group of psycho witches. They’re probably holed in a cabin or compound in the middle of the woods,” Bonnie suggested. “And maybe they have a spell that keeps it from showing up on any maps, like in Harry Potter.”

“Helpful,” Damon muttered sarcastically.

“Hey,” Bonne said, growing defensive. “I’ve done everything you asked. I did the spell. I’ve made you a stash of potions to take with you, and I haven’t said a word to Caroline or Elena. I _don’t_ like lying to my best friends, and I don’t understand why you two are lying to your girlfriends.”

Damon paused in packing the potions and paused. “Did you say girlfriends?”

“Uh, no, Bonnie said quickly, busying herself with cleaning up. 

Stefan came into the room a moment later, carrying a blanket, water bottles, and some travel-friendly food. He also packed some fresh clothes for Gwen. He didn’t imagine she would be in great shape when they found her, never mind what they were doing to her in the meantime.

“Bonnie says you have a girlfriend,” Damon said, rounding on his brother. “She also says that not only are you keeping what we’re doing a secret, but she’s lying to your girlfriend too. Are you dating Vampire Barbie?”

Stefan shot Bonnie an accusatory glare. She raised her hands defensively and said, “It just slipped out.”

“How did I not notice this?” Damon asked incredulously.

“Because you’re a self-absorbed bastard too focused on his own girlfriend issues,” Stefan quipped. “I’m going to go put all this in the car. Are you ready to go?”

“Yep,” he said, waving the sticky note with the coordinates on it. “And we’re not done talking about your new girlfriend!”

“There’s nothing to talk about!” Stefan shouted as the door closed behind him.

Damon smirked and turned back to Bonnie. “Lock up when you’re done, and don’t tell your BFFs where we went.”

“You do know you will have to discuss this with Elena when you get back?” Bonnie asked, hitching her bag over her shoulder. “If for no other reason than Stefan, or I, will tell Caroline.”

“Don’t threaten me,” Damon said, though he was slightly amused by her bluster. “No one likes a tattletale, Bonnie.”

“Yeah, but people like liars less,” she shot back. “And I’d rather tattle than be tattled on to Caroline and Elena.”

Damon shrugged. He knew he should feel bad about lying to Elena, but he didn’t. It was better to not tell her. There was no time for relationship drama; he would deal with the consequences later.

“See ya, Bon Bon!”

“Good luck,” she sighed. She did not have a good feeling about them going up against this coven. She had found mentions of them in her grandmother’s texts, and they sounded like a group you should avoid. Their crimes rivaled those of Klaus and his family. But she agreed with Stefan and Damon, they couldn’t leave Gwen to die. Besides, having a friendly witch around might be nice.

 

* * *

 

 

“So you and Caroline, huh?” Damon teased as they turned onto the highway. Stefan, who was driving, clenched his jaw. “How long has that been going on?”

“A few weeks,” Stefan grumbled.

“So is this just a fun rebound or is it serious?” Damon pried, ignoring his brother’s uneasiness.

“It’s serious,” Stefan sighed. “And if you could be just a bit nicer to her, I would appreciate it.”

“I’m no more antagonistic to her than she is to me!” Damon said, sounding a little a offended.

“She has a pretty good reason to be, if you recall,” Stefan pointed out. He added quietly, “Maybe you could apologize.”

“Apologize?! For what?”

“Uh, how about you used her to get to Elena? And how you manipulated and fed from her?” Stefan suggested.

“I’m a vampire. That’s what we do,” Damon said.

Stefan rolled his eyes. “It wouldn’t hurt you to get along with your girlfriend’s best friend and your brother’s girlfriend. Unless you’re not planning on being someone’s boyfriend?”

It was Damon’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’ll try to be nicer, but I’m not going to promise anything. That would only guarantee that I do the opposite.”

“Did you even talk to Elena about the sire bond?”

“Yeah, we talked on the phone the night we got back from New Orleans.”

“Care to elaborate?” Stefan prompted.

“Not really.”

“Do you think she’s still alive?” Damon asked after a few minutes of them driving in silence.

“Gwen? Yeah,” Stefan said, hoping he sounded convincing. “But I don’t know what these people have done to her. You read what they did to her guardian.”

“Yeah,” Damon sighed.

“We’ll save her this time,” Stefan promised.

Damon nodded, looking grim.

 

* * *

 

 

Gwen grunted in pain as John shoved her to the floor. She had been taken to an elaborately decorated office. The wood paneling was dark and the walls were adorned with what looked like medieval torture instruments. She struggled to adjust to the dim lighting, even after being held in the dark basement for several days. Her eyes watered as she pushed herself up so that she was kneeling.

Tina was sitting on the top of the desk in front of her. She looked strangely intrigued by Gwen today as opposed to her normal disinterest. Gwen shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

“John tells me you’ve made a decision,” she said, sounding too pleased. 

Gwen nodded her head, working to control her anger. She wanted them to think that she was broken.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Tina taunted. Gwen raised her head and made eye contact with the bitch. She looked so pleased with herself; her smile was practically manic.

“I’ve made a decision,” Gwen said, sounding weak.

“And what is it?” Tina prompted. The others — there were always others — were standing around them in a kind of a circle. They all shared a hopeful look with their nearest neighbors.

Gwen swallowed, hoping her nerves would be interpreted as shame. “I-I want to be one of you,” she said, making her voice break.

“Very good. We’ll start you on your detox. Elaine, get her cleaned up and start preparing her for the ceremony. She should be ready in two days,” Tina instructed. “But keep her hands bound, just to be safe.”

Elaine nodded and John forced Gwen to her feet. He pushed Gwen to follow Elaine. She had to keep up the broken act if she was going to get out of here. She couldn’t let them see her anger, even if they were involved in Helen’s death.

Elaine was practically beaming as they walked down the hallway. “We’re so happy you’ve decided to come home,” she said. It was the nicest she had been to Gwen since they had kidnapped her. “You’ll be so happy with us, and free. You can’t imagine what it’s like to not be bound by the laws of nature.”

Gwen remained silent, dragging her feet as they walked. When they reached a bathroom, she was pushed inside. Elaine turned to John. “If I need you, I’ll call.” He nodded and stalked back in the direction they had come from.

“You’ll have to excuse him,” Elaine babbled as she started filling the tub with warm water. “He’s not very smart, or magically talented. He also doesn’t talk. We’re not sure if it’s because he can’t or chooses not to. Zach brought him here when he was eight, after his parents died. He thought John had potential, but he’s mostly just muscle.”

Gwen rolled her eyes when Elaine was not looking. Zach had, most likely, killed John’s parents. She wondered if Elaine was stupid or pretended to be ignorant.

“I’m going to untie you,” she said, her tone becoming stern. “You can undress and bathe yourself, but don’t try anything. You’ll just end up hurt. You’re still powerless.”

“Got it,” Gwen said. As soon as the rope was removed, she rubbed her wrists. Her arms were sore from being in one position for so long. Her wrists were covered in rope burn, which was going to sting like a bitch when she got into the water.

“There’s shampoo, conditioner, and soap next to the tub,” Elaine said. “I’ll step outside. You have two minutes to get in.”

She pushed past Gwen and went into the hall, leaving the door slightly ajar. Gwen undressed quickly and got in the tub, deciding it would be stupid to pass up a hot bath. She could not remember the last time she had been clean. The warm water felt great to her sore body, though it stung a few cuts that had yet to heal. As soon as she had settled, she pulled the shower curtain closed to get whatever privacy she could. She heard Elaine re-enter the bathroom and close the door behind her.

“I got you some fresh clothes,” she said. “We’ll just throw your old ones out. There’s no way to save them. So what would you like your first real meal in two weeks to be?”

“Two weeks?” she said shocked. She had been here for two weeks. They tortured her for two whole weeks, and now this girl was acting like it had never happened? It was like she thought Gwen was a misbehaving child, who deserved to be punished and could now be pampered because she had learned her lesson.

“Yeah,” Elaine said, sounding a little impressed. “We’ve never had someone last this long. So, what do you want to eat?”

 

* * *

 

 

“Damon and Stefan have gone where?” Caroline demanded.

“To save Gwen from her psycho coven,” Bonnie admitted sheepishly.

Bonnie had not meant to tell on the boys. But Caroline had been waiting for her when she arrived home. She thought Damon and Stefan had been acting odd, and was wondering if Bonnie knew something about what had happened in New Orleans. Bonnie, who was already uncomfortable lying to Elena and Caroline, had not done such a great job at lying. Caroline quickly pressured her into spilling the secret.

“Oh my god,” Caroline sighed, plopping down on Bonnie’s bed. “They’re so stupid and reckless! They’re going to get killed! Oh my god, Elena has no idea, does she?”

Bonnie sat down next to, shaking her head. “No, she doesn’t. And I wouldn’t say Damon’s actions are completely motivated by guilt.”

“You think he’s still in love with her?” Caroline asked, sounding worried.

“Yeah,” Bonnie sighed. She felt bad for Elena, especially with the whole sire bond thing going on. But she never really believed Damon and Elena would work. They made each more selfish when they were together. It was all passion and lust and forbidden. It would never last. “She was his first love. They were…. They were married and they were going to have a kid. And then she died. And it’s Damon. Does anyone believe he ever really got over that? This is the same guy that pined after Katherine for a century and a half.”

“Oh god,” Caroline sighed. “Poor Elena.”

“Yeah, it’s not going to be good.” 

“Should we tell her?” Caroline asked.

“Probably,” Bonnie shrugged. “To be honest, I’d rather let Damon be on the receiving end of her initial reaction. But at the same time, I don’t want her find out from Damon that I lied to her and helped him find his reincarnated wife.”

Caroline laughed. “Sorry, that wasn’t appropriate. But I’d go with you and protect you.”

“Thanks,” Bonnie said dryly.

“Not to trivialize a serious conversation, but do you want gossip?”

“Please, distract me.”

“Gwen totally slept with Matt and Stefan’s been doing everything he can to make sure Damon doesn’t kill him,” Caroline said quickly.

“No way! Matt had a hook up?!” Bonnie was shocked.

“Right?! Little Matty having a one-night stand? That’s so not like him,” Caroline said. “It’s so good to finally tell someone. I hate trying to keep those kinds of things a secret.”

“How long have you known?” Bonnie demanded.

It was Caroline’s turn to look sheepish. “About a week. Stefan asked me to keep an eye on Matt if Damon was around. Of course I made him tell me why.”

“I can’t believe you kept this from me for a whole week!” Bonnie said pretending to be offended as she slapped Caroline’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry! I was trying to be good.”

“What are we going to do with information?” Bonnie asked.

“I don’t know,” Caroline said thoughtfully. “Harassing Matt seems like the safest option. But really Damon and Matt will just get cranky and suck the fun out of it.”

“True. We’ll think of something good.”

“That’s a good use of our time,” Caroline said sarcastically. “Distract ourselves with something petty, while chaos hangs over our heads.”

“Chaos is always hanging over our heads,” Bonnie retorted.

Caroline was quiet for a minute “Maybe we should move? It can’t be like this everywhere.”

“Who knows?” Bonnie shrugged. “I think if we’re within a fifty-mile radius of the Salvatores, there’s going to be chaos. So, moving would be good for me, but not you. Have you told Elena about you two yet?”

Caroline groaned and placed a pillow over her face. “No, I don’t know how to bring it up tactfully. You know I struggle with that.”

“I guess we’ll just dump everything on her at once.”

“Oh yeah, that’ll end well.”

“Do you have a better idea?” Bonnie asked.

“No. I guess we should go talk to her tomorrow?” Caroline suggested, looking less than thrilled at the idea.

“We might as well. Maybe she’ll be able to have somewhat rational discussion with Damon when he gets back.”

“I doubt it,” Caroline sighed. Bonnie nodded her head in agreement. _Nothing could ever be easy around here, could it?_ Bonnie thought.


	16. Chapter 16

**_1861_ **

 

Gwen slept late the next morning, something she had not done in years. Aunt Lila believed in starting the day early and getting as much out of it as possible. Mrs. Brookes having a similar philosophy, though Gwen’s father must have told to let her be.

Crawling out of bed, Gwen slipped on her dressing gown. She pushed aside the drapes and was blinded by the sun. Squinting, she opened the French doors to her small balcony. Gwen closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her skin. It was a good day for a ride.

There was a knock at the door, pulling Gwen out of her peaceful state. She adjusted her robe and called, “Come in.”

“Oh good, you’re already up,” Emily said by way of a morning greeting. She was carrying a breakfast tray, dropping it on the dressing table to set up the room for the day. “How are you feeling this morning, Miss?”

“Good, thank you,” Gwen replied, leaning against the railing of the balcony. She should eat, but she wasn’t really hungry.

“Is there anything you need from town today? I have to pick up a few things for Mrs. Brookes.”

“I don’t believe I do. On your way out, could you ask George to prepare my horse for me? I’d like to go for a ride.”

“Who, Miss?” Emily asked, pausing in her work and looking at Gwen with a confused look.

“George? He runs the stables?”

“Oh,” Emily said, comprehension dawning on her face. “He left a few years ago; right before I started working here, actually.”

“Left?” Gwen asked. George had been one of the few slaves her father owned. He could not have just left, even if her father had approved it. It was against the law to free slaves.

“Yes, Miss,” Emily said as she made the bed. “From what I’ve heard, he received news that some of his family had made it to a northern state. Some of the house staff say your father approved it and gave him money, but no one is certain…”

She was fishing for information. Gwen shrugged, “I didn’t even know George was gone. Does anyone know if he made it?”

“No,” Emily shrugged, clearly disappointed with Gwen’s lack of information. “Not that anyone who would know would tell me.”

Gwen nodded. Emily was a paid, white servant in a big house that only had two residents. Her job was probably considered one of the best in town — a part from being independently wealthy or owning a large and successful plantation. The slaves who had known George would have no reason to risk being seen talking to a white servant of his former owner’s house to share news that would be considered mildly interesting gossip by that servant. It was probably best if no one ever knew of George’s fate; though she hoped he had found his family.

“Mr. Benjamin Mitchell runs the stables now. He’s a local boy, the son of one of the smaller farms in the area,” Emily explained, blushing slightly. _He must be young and handsome_ , Gwen thought. “I’ll ask him to prepare your horse on my way out. Do you need anything else?”

“No,” Gwen said, pushing herself off the railing. “I’ll ring if I need anything.”

“Very well,” Emily nodded. She gathered Gwen’s laundry as Gwen prepared her tea. Emily was halfway to the door when she spun around and said, “Oh! I almost forgot! Mr. Damon Salvatore called on you early this morning. He left you a note.”

She fished her hand into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a rather crinkled piece of paper. Gwen met her halfway and took the note from her. “Would you like me to wait while you write a reply? I can have one of the stable boys take it over to the Salvatore plantation?”

“That won’t be necessary.” Emily failed miserably at hiding her surprise, but left without another word.

From what Gwen had seen last night, she figured Damon must have been a rather desired match: he was handsome and his father was rich. It was no wonder Emily would be shocked by Gwen’s lack of interest. Poor girl, she had probably thought her social standing would approve among her colleagues and friends now that she was waiting on the young and rebellious Gwen Ashwood. She had probably thought Gwen would bring a scandal with her or immediately get involved with one. It would have been great for her. She would have been the leading authority on all the gossip. Instead, Gwen was proving to be as interesting as an old spinster, which is what she bet some of the townspeople were saying about her.

Ready to throw the note in the bin, Gwen paused. It could not hurt to read it, especially since she had no intention of responding. As soon as her father was well, they would be leaving. There was no reason to get involved with anyone, especially Damon. She unfolded the note, a quarter of a normal sheet of stationary that had been torn sloppily. It said for her to meet him at their old spot that afternoon.

She crumpled up the note and dropped it into the waste bin. _Absolutely not_ , she told herself.

 

* * *

 

 

She was just going for a solitary ride on the trails. Perhaps she would even pick some wildflowers for her father. But she would not go to the old spot.

It was good to ride again. Aunt Lila had not been one for the outdoors and hadn’t let Gwen ride often, hardly at all. Faye did not have quite the energy she once had, but the mare seemed happy to be out again, as well.

Her father had tried insisting that Mr. Mitchell or one of the stable boys accompany her, but Gwen had refused. She would not go far and promised to stay on the trail. He hadn’t been happy about it, but he had agreed to let her go alone.

Unfortunately, she was not alone for long. Another rider turned onto the trail and came toward her. Even from a distance, she could see it was Damon. Gwen clenched her fists, the rein cutting into her hand slightly. She was not anywhere near their old spot, and she doubted his appearance was a coincidence. Tired of putting on a smile and being polite, she decided to continue her ride as if he was not there.

“It’s almost disappointing how predictable you are,” Damon said. He was smirking, clearly pleased with himself. But Gwen was not sure why.

Despite her resolution to ignore him, she slowed Faye to a stop.“What do you mean?” she asked.

His smirk deepened as he rolled his eyes. “By telling you to meet me at the tree, I practically guaranteed that you wouldn’t be anywhere near there. And this was always one of your favorite trails.”

Her eyes narrowed into a glare. “How did you know I would go for a ride today?”

He shrugged. “I took a risk.”

She huffed in annoyance and nudged Faye to start walking. Damon was faster. He maneuvered his own horse so that they were blocking Gwen and Faye from continuing forward.

“This is childish,” she sighed. “What do you want?”

“To catch up with my friend,” he replied, his tone turning icy.

“Couldn’t you have stopped by for tea or lunch instead of ambushing me on a trail?” she asked, no longer bothering to be polite.

“I didn’t think you would accept an invitation to either. Besides, now there aren’t any pesky chaperones around to hinder the conversation.”

“But people will talk if they find out. I don’t want to get caught up in any scandals, especially after being here for a day.”

“Since when do you care about what people say?” Damon asked, incredulous.

“I just don’t want to bring any unnecessary attention to myself.” It wasn’t a lie. There would be plenty of gossip when she and her father left. “My father isn’t well.  He doesn’t need me to cause trouble.”

Damon remained silent. He was watching her, trying to make up his mind about something. She took the opportunity to turn her horse around and make her way back home. “I’m sorry about your father, but I think there’s something else going on,” he said as he rode after her.

“There’s nothing else going on,” Gwen insisted.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “If you beat me to the edge of your father’s property, I’ll leave you alone. If I win, you tell me what’s really going on.”

“You want to race for information?” she asked, looking at him in disbelief and a hint of amusement. “You’re insane.”

“What? Afraid of losing?” he taunted.

She scoffed, “You’ve never beat me.”

“I believe you just agreed to my terms,” Damon smirked.

“What? No — I —” Gwen stuttered, but Damon was already urging his horse into a gallop. She groaned and nudged Faye to follow them. It would be impossible for her to catch up to Damon. Not only did he have a head start, but also his horse was younger and probably used to being raced. Faye was old and out of shape. It would be a miracle if she caught up to him, let alone over took them.

Damon won, but for a minute Gwen did not care. For a minute she was a happy, carefree fourteen-year-old, again flushed and out of breath after a great race. She caught Damon staring at her, an odd look on his face. She quickly composed herself, busying herself with straightening out her hair. 

“I won,” he prompted.

Gwen hesitated. She could keep going, say she never agreed to the deal and didn’t owe him an explanation, which was true. Besides, was she not owed an explanation? Why had he never responded to any of her letters? What was his sudden interest now? She shook the thoughts away. None of that mattered now. She would be leaving soon, and they would be out of each other’s lives forever.

“As soon as my father is well, we’ll be leaving Mystic Falls,” she said, still slightly out of breath.

“And?” Damon asked, a puzzled look on his face.

“We won’t be coming back. Ever.”

Damon remained silent, but Gwen knew the look on his face. He was hurt and disappointed. She looked away from him, feeling guilty against her better judgment. Once again, she urged Faye forward, and, once again, found her path blocked by Damon.

“Why?” he demand, his voice hard.

“I can’t…” she started, but sighed in frustration instead. Nervously, she licked her lips. What did she have to lose? “There’s something you don’t know about me. It’s a family thing. Because of it, I’m not safe. My aunt’s death wasn’t an accident, and it won’t be long until those who killed her track me here. I need to leave. Even telling you this puts you at risk.”

“What do you mean? What’s going on?” Damon asked, his confusion growing.

Gwen maneuvered her horse around Damon’s.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said quietly. “I’ll be gone soon. It would be best if you went home and acted as if I had never come back.” She waited, expecting some sarcastic retort, but nothing came. Oddly, Damon did not argue. In fact, he left without another word. The fading thuds of his horse’s hooves being the only thing she heard.

 

“Good,” she muttered to herself, ignoring the stinging of her eyes. She was so confused. She wanted him to leave her alone and now that he had she was upset? Selfishly, she hoped her father got well soon. She needed to get out of this place. Elijah was right: coming back had been a very bad idea.

“Did you enjoy your ride, Miss Ashwood?” Mr. Mitchell asked, helping her dismount.

“Yes, thank you.” She thought her voice sounded a little strange, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Would you mind pampering her a little? I’m afraid I may have pushed her a bit more than I should have.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. She’s tougher than she looks,” he said, patting the horse affectionately. He looked tired. Gwen realized he had probably been up since dawn, if not before then. He was probably only a few years older than her, but he looked like he was a decade older, aged from the sun and hard labor. “But I’ll do as you ask, ma’am.”

“Thank you, and thank you for taking such good care of her since I’ve been gone. It’s good to see her so healthy.”

He seemed surprised for a moment, but quickly recovered. “Thank you, Miss Ashwood.”

She bid him goodnight and walked to the house. Upon entering the house, she was immediately accosted by Emily.

“This letter came for you,” she said, speaking quickly as she handed Gwen the letter. “The cook would like to know if you would like dinner served in the dining room?”

Her heart sunk when she saw the name on the letter. It was from Elijah. She hoped he had written only to admonish her, and not to say that Klaus was on his way already. She was so distracted she almost missed Emily’s question. “No,” she said, a little too quickly. “I’ll take dinner in my father’s study. Speaking of, is he awake?”

“Um, yes, Miss. I believe Mrs. Brookes said he could have visitors.”

“Thank you, I’m going to check on him. If you need me, I’ll be there or in his study.”

“Yes, Miss,” Emily said, excusing herself.

Clutching the letter in one hand, Gwen ascended the stairs. Hopefully, her father was feeling better. She needed some good news.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Present** _

 

“Raise and shine!” Elaine sang as she burst into Gwen’s room.

Gwen jumped awake, feeling déjà-vu as she watched Elaine set down a tray of food and pull back the drapes, letting in the bright sunlight. Groaning at the light, Gwen buried her face in the blankets. 

“None of that,” Elaine admonished. “We have a lot to do to get you ready for tonight. Now, eat your breakfast and get cleaned up.”

“Can’t I just sleep for another half hour?” Gwen whined. “I was up late studying and rehearsing for tonight. My magic won’t work if I’m exhausted.”

Elaine’s overly cheerful façade fell for a second. “I can sense your magic. It’s plenty strong, especially with the binding potion out of your system. You’ve been pampered for the last two days and, thanks to our potions, you’re back to perfect physical health. You and your magic will be able to perform just fine tonight.”

Gwen sighed. She was unable to argue as she had practically been treated like a queen since she agreed to join them. The room she was in was larger than both hers and Helen’s combined back home. The luxury of her surroundings was meant to appease her, like the walk-in closet or massive bathroom were enough to entire her to keep her word. But Gwen realized it was more than that when Tina had said the room would be hers permanently. Apparently, being twice born to the coven entitled her an automatic position on its council.

The council was more of a symbolic position since they did not make decisions. They only carried out orders from Zach, whom Gwen had yet to meet. Apparently, he did not spend much time at the compound, though no one knew where he was or what he was doing. Occasionally, he sent back a new member. It was usually an orphaned teenager or a young couple with an infant. Gwen had no doubt they had been bullied into coming here.

At the moment, the most frustrating thing was that he was not even bothering to show up for her initiation. After everything he had done to her, he would not be there to see her “break.” It was a minor setback, but Gwen had decided to go ahead with her plan. She would never get another chance this good. If she survived, Zach would come after her and he would be alone and weak without the coven’s collective power.

It was dangerous to join powers, a practice most covens used judiciously as a group decision. They voluntarily used their magic to help each other, but this coven had funneled its power into their leader. Everyone had to follow his will or they were killed. Some were afraid of him and the awful things he done, but most seemed happy to serve him. Even those that been forced into this coven seemed to follow him willingly. Or maybe they were just really good actors? Or under a spell?

“Gwen, are you all right?” Elaine asked, sounding genuinely concerned. Gwen pulled herself out her reverie and pulled the tray of food closer to her. 

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, spreading some jelly on a biscuit. “Just feeling nervous.”

“You’ll be fine,” Elaine said sweetly, walking over to the closet. “We have a dress for you to wear for tonight. I’ll set it out for you.”

“That’s…thoughtful,” Gwen mumbled. She hoped she sounded sincere, though she was annoyed the initiation had been a foregone conclusion and would need an appropriate dress. How did they even know her size?

“Anything for our newest witch.”

* * *

 

“You think that’s good?” Damon asked as he set another pine tree branch across the hood of the car.

“Should be,” Stefan said, placing some uprooted shrubs in front of the car. “We’re parked far enough back from the road and far enough from the compound. I don’t think anyone will be able to see it unless they’re looking for it. We should still be able to get out of here quickly when we need to.” 

“Yeah, what’s up with this coven anyway? They’re living in small village in the middle of nowhere. There’s a fucking mansion! I think they’re even growing and raising their own food. Pretty sure the barn has actual livestock in it.”

Stefan shrugged, “Psycho witches. The bigger issue is how are we getting _in_?”

“It’s just a chain link fence with barbed wire on top. We can get through that.”

“Not without being invited in.”

“What?” Damon asked, stopping and turning to look at Stefan. “What are you talking about?”

“I tested the fence when we were checking out the place. They have same spell that keeps us out of houses around the entire compound. The only way we’re getting in is if we’re invited… or the spell caster dies.”

“Fuck,” Damon sighed, kicking a pile of twigs in frustration. “Well now what?”

“Call Bonnie? Wait for someone to show and get them to let us in?”

“Great,” Damon muttered.

“Do you have a better idea?”

“No, but we can try to think of one while we wait for a target.”

* * *

 

Gwen could hardly eat at dinner. She was too nervous. Could she really do this? Go up against an entire coven? Take them out? She had the power to do it, and it was a matter of survival... though she would be disappointing her parents and Helen in the process. She shook herself out of her thoughts. They were not here any more, and she didn’t have anyone left to help her. In a few hours, either the coven would die or she would.

“Is everything all right, Gwen? You’ve hardly touched your food,” Tina observed with more suspicion than concern. She was the only one who did not quite belief Gwen had broken completely. Zach had chosen his second in second-in-command wisely.

“I’m fine. Just nervous,” she said before taking a bite of her chicken.

“There’s no reason to be nervous. You’ll make an oath, say a spell, and then we’ll celebrate,” Tina said with a sickly sweet grin. “But you should still eat. The spell can be a bit draining.”

Gwen nodded and forced herself to clean her plate, but she did not talk to anyone for the rest of dinner. As she had been keeping to herself, no one thought this was odd. They carried on their mindless conversations and playful teasing. It was weird how normal they all seemed, at least for murdering psycho witches who lived in a compound in the woods. Hell, the compound was some weird European village copy. For the life of her, Gwen couldn’t figure out why so much detail had gone into the buildings. Clearly, they were trying to stay hidden. How did this set up not draw attention to them?

“Would it be ok if I go for a walk before the ceremony?” Gwen asked when the meal was over. “I think it would calm my nerves.”

Tina studied her for a moment, her eyes narrowing in thought. “John will take you. Bind her hands.”

John seemed to appear next her from out of nowhere, though she could have sworn he had already finished dinner. He grabbed her wrists roughly and tied them together. The rope was spelled so that it was immune to any magic that tried to undo the knot. John nudged her shoulder for her to walk and they trailed after the last group to leave the dining hall. Gwen was starting to wonder if John could talk or if Zach had done something to him.

The thin fleece Gwen had been given barely kept out the chill of the windy, gray evening. She was thankful her hair was in a ponytail; otherwise it would have been constantly blowing in her face. John walked about five feet behind her. The cold didn’t seem to bother him, but nothing ever to affect him.

Gwen walked along the perimeter next to the chain link fence that looked so out with the coven’s aesthetic. She had thought John would try to steer her back to the center of the compound, but he seemed fine with letting her lead them.

Something in Gwen’s peripheral vision moved. She paused and looked at the cluster of pine trees just beyond the fence. The wind was blowing hard enough to make the entire tree sway but she had thought she had seen a different kind of movement. Shrugging, she made to continue her walk when John tightly gripped her shoulder. He was scanning the tree line, a glare on his face. He must have seen it too.

“We’re going back inside,” he said, his voice hoarse from disuse. “You’re to stay in your room until the ceremony. You better hope that was just a deer and not someone coming to get you.”

He was practically pushing her back to the house. She just barely kept herself from falling her own feet more than once. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And _you_ know there’s no one coming for me.”

“We’ll see,” he muttered. He half dragged her through the house. His grip on her upper left arm was probably going to leave bruises behind. _That won’t look so nice with the dress they choose for the ceremony_ , she thought. Once they reached her room, he untied her hands and shoved her inside before slamming the door shut. The bolt of the lock slid into place with a resolute click. What was all that about?

* * *

 

“Did you find anything?” Tina asked, not bothering to look up from the letter she was reading.

“No,” John said, a hint of disappointment making its way into his otherwise monotonous voice. “It must have been an animal.”

“Good, we don’t need any problems tonight.” When he didn’t leave, she asked, “Is there something else?”

“It seems too easy. How do we know she doesn’t have backup plan?”

“We don’t,” Tina said. “But she’s alone, we can easily stop any attempt to escape or attack. If she dies, she dies.”

“But Zach wants her alive. He specifically said to keep her alive until he got back.”

“He did, but accidents happen,” Tine shrugged. “If he wanted to make sure things went as planned, he should have bothered to show up.”

John nodded, excusing himself. He was sure Gwen was up to something. She had stubbornly refused to join them for almost two weeks, in spite of the physical and mental torture. Without any hint of her wavering in her resolution against them, she suddenly decided to give in. John knew she must have had come up with a plan, but no one believed him.

Elaine swore that Gwen was only out for her sight when she was sleeping or showering, and she was never left alone with any books about magic. Elaine actually laughed at him when he asked about Gwen’s habits. He was used to the coven’s opinion of his intelligence, but they wouldn’t have even found Gwen if it weren’t for him. And he was not about to underestimate her and risk Zach’s anger over her death just because Tina felt like she had been put on babysitting duty.

 _It’s her own fault really,_ John thought. _She should learn to follow orders._


	18. Chapter 18

**_1861_ **

 

“What do you mean ‘he’s worse’?" 

Gwen had been in the study, reading her mother’s diary when Dr. Fell had showed for her father’s daily check up. He had seemed confident his patient would be in better condition; but her father’s health was apparently worse.

“You said it was a minor cold, that he would be better in a couple of days.” She was working to keep the panic out of her, though only half was in sole concern for her father. They would both be in mortal danger when Klaus found her in Mystic Falls.

Dr. Fell looked uncomfortable. “I may have misdiagnosed him, and I’m not actually sure what ails him. It could be a usually severe cold or the beginning of something more troubling. He mentioned he had been planning a small holiday for you both, but I’m afraid he will be immobile for the time being.”

“Is there anything I can do to help him?”

“Before you came, I gave your housekeeper a list of foods and liquids he should be consuming. You should make sure the kitchen sticks to that list. If he is feeling up to it, then a small walk around his room or the upper floor would be good. If you can get him outside in the fresh air, that would be even better. Finally, make sure he takes his medicine. It should help with the pain, but I know he can be stubborn.”

“Thank you,” Gwen said, nervously biting her lip. She remembered overhearing similar instructions when her mother first fell ill. While she hoped these were just the basic protocols doctors gave when they were at loss, it wasn’t much of a comforting thought.

Dr. Fell went to leave, but he paused at the door. “Please, don’t hesitate to call on me if you need anything. I realize this can be overwhelming situation, especially so soon after the loss of your aunt.”

“Thank you,” she repeated, a little harsher this time. Her father’s illness was stressful and worrying, not overwhelming. What was overwhelming was the growing impossibility of her escaping Klaus.

He nodded, continuing on his way out. She leaned against her father’s desk and allowed herself to have one minute of self-pity and worry. After that minute, she pulled herself together and went upstairs to see her father.

“How are you feeling?” she asked upon entering the room. She busied herself by tidying up the spotless room and pouring her father a glass of water.

“Just a little tired,” he said, accepting the glass. “Dr. Fell is making a fuss out of nothing. Probably bored being a wealthy, country doctor.”

Gwen smiled indulgently. Of course he would pretend he was not as sick as he was, but she could see the effort it took him to sit up for a drink. “I could to find a potion to help? Especially since your doctor doesn’t seem to know what to do.”

“No,” he said, suddenly stern. “It’s much too risky for you to do that. There are still too many anti-witch fanatics here. If they see you gathering certain ingredients or, God forbid, one of the staff gossips to the wrong person, they won’t hesitate to come after you. Promise me you won’t use any magic while you’re here, unless it’s to protect yourself from that bastard.”

“I promise,” Gwen sighed. She didn’t want him to get worked up, he needed to rest. “Perhaps I should look for a better doctor? I could reach out to some of my friends from New York, and see if they know of anyone in the area or someone willing to come this way?”

“I thought the remaining members of the coven refused to have contact with you?”

“I have friends outside the coven,” she said, pretending to be offended. “The coven was not the only thing in my life, despite Aunt Lila’s efforts.”

Her father smiled, amused by her answer. “Your mother would be proud. She never wanted you to get mixed up in all of this. She wanted you to have a normal life.”

“I know, but don’t avoid my question. Should I look for another doctor?”

“No, I believe it’s just a bad cold. That’s what it feels like. I should be fine in a few days. You and Dr. Fell are overreacting,” he said stubbornly, though Gwen noticed him lean against the headboard to support himself.

“Fine. But if you’re not feeling any better at the end of week, I’m finding you a new doctor.”

“So stubborn,” he chuckled.

“I can’t imagine where I get it from,” she teased. 

“Nor I,” he said, pretending to be surprised. His smile slowly disappeared, and his manner turned serious. “If I don’t get well, we need to consider the possibility of you leaving, without me.”

“No,” she said. “I won’t leave you here sick and defenseless.”

“Gwen —” he started but she cut him.

“No!” She stood from the bed and began to pace. “You’re all I have left. I’m not leaving without you.”

Thomas sighed in defeat. He knew there was no point in arguing with her. She had made up her mind, and he, selfishly, did not want her to go. Besides, he was bedridden. He could not force her to leave, and there was no one he trusted to take her. They would have to settle for hoping he got better or this vampire bastard lost interest.

“What will you do if I don’t get better and he shows up?”

“I’ll take care of it. I’m quite powerful you know.” She tried to keep her voice light, but she ended up sounding sad and lost.

“Gwen.” 

“I’ll do what I have to,” she shrugged. “If that means doing what he wants, I’ll do it.”

“Is that wise?”

“I doubt it,” she sighed. “But I’m running out of options. And he knows it.”

* * *

 

Two days later, Gwen found herself sitting in the parlor of the Gilbert house. Unlike most of the wealthy families of Mystic Falls, the Gilberts resided in a three-story house just two blocks from the center of town. It may not have been as large as most of the estate homes, but it was still much larger than her aunt’s had been. 

Gwen was surprised by the interior. She could tell there had been a battle of sorts when it came to the home’s decoration. Mrs. Gilbert had been showy and always wanted the best of everything. Her husband, on the other hand, was simple and had no desire to showoff his wealth. The décor was a mix of their personalities. The rugs, drapes, and cloth furniture were all of the finest fabrics and the latest design — or they had been when Mr. Gilbert had died. Meanwhile, there were scarcely any decorations on the walls or shelves. She vaguely recalled overhearing her mother and the other women gossiping whenever Mrs. Gilbert had redesigned the house, which had been a common occurrence.

“How’s your father?” Sarah asked, pouring Gwen a cup of tea.

“Not much better,” Gwen admitted, taking the cup Sarah offered her. “I think he’s getting worse. He could hardly sit up this morning, and Doctor Fell has no idea what’s wrong.”

Sarah smiled sympathetically. “Have you thought about contacting another doctor? Perhaps one who is a bit more serious about his job?”

Gwen smirked. She was glad to know she wasn’t the only one who found Dr. Fell’s skills lacking. “I have suggested it, several times. He stubbornly believes Dr. Fell is doing all he can. I think he’s afraid of offending him.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. She understood how funny men could be, especially fathers. “Will you be going to the Salvatores’ spring soirée or playing nurse-maid?”

“Father insists that I go,” she sighed. She really did not want to go to another Mystic Falls society event. Honestly, they had too many. More importantly, she did not want to see Damon again. It may have only been a few days, but she had neither heard from nor seen him again — and she been out riding everyday. She told herself this was a good thing. Even if she did end up staying, it was still too dangerous to get too involved with anyone. She was already feeling guilty about spending time with Sarah, though she consoled herself with the fact that Sarah would be leaving for Georgia soon. With any luck, she would be gone before Klaus showed up.

“Oh, cheer up,” Sarah laughed. “It won’t be that bad. There’ll be music and games and the best food and wine….  And Damon Salvatore.”

“Of course he’ll be there. It’s his family’s party,” Gwen said, feigning obliviousness. She took a sip of her tea, avoiding Sarah’s curious gaze.

“I saw you with him the other night. Things looked…heated.”

“It was nothing. He was only curious about New York, but I wasn’t really in the mood to talk about it. I’m afraid I got a little emotional.” When did she become so good at lying?

“If you say so,” Sarah said, a hint of a smile on her lips.

“How are the wedding plans faring?” Gwen asked, desperate to change the topic of conversation.

Sarah launched into an hour-long tirade about all the headaches of planning a large wedding, which was a must when you were from a wealthy family. There was the problem of how many to invite and who had to be invited out of politeness and whom they actually wanted to invite. Then there was the question of the venue, which depended upon on their guest list. And then there was the food, and on, and on it went. Gwen was grateful for the distraction, even if she found it rather boring. When she left, Sarah apologized profusely for dominating the conversation.

“It’s so difficult being the only woman in the house,” she explained, still embarrassed by how much she had talked. “But you must understand. There’s just no one to talk to about these things.”

“Please don’t worry about it,” Gwen reassured her. “I was thankful for the distraction from my father. His illness isn’t much fun to talk or think about.”

“No, I imagine not. Would you like to ride with us to the Salvatore estate? It’s no trouble.”

“That won’t be necessary. This town is rather quiet and boring compared to New York. I think I want to see what happens when I show up to one of these society dinners without an escort or chaperone.”

“Oh, I doubt you’d be invited anywhere ever again,” Sarah laughed.

“We can only hope. I’ll see you at the party then.”

“Can’t wait,” Sarah said, smiling mischievously as if she was a part of some big scheme. Gwen showing up alone to a party was not exactly proper, and would cause some to whisper, but it was hardly scandalous. There were worse things she could do, like riding off with a boy after her mother’s funeral.

She walked the two blocks to Main Street where she was meeting Mr. Mitchell to escort her back home. He had needed to pick up a few things from hardware store, though Gwen suspected he had finished his errands quickly and had taken the opportunity to socialize. She hoped he had not indulged himself too much at the pub. According to Mrs. Brookes, he had a bad habit of drinking too much; then again, Mrs. Brookes often thought more than two glasses of anything was too much.

When she rounded the corner, she saw Mr. Mitchell loading up the wagon with what looked like a few bags of flour and sugar. Mrs. Brookes must have asked him to pick up a few things.

“Ready to go, Miss Ashwood?” he asked once he got sight of her.

“Yes. Were you able to get everything you needed?”

“Yes, Miss,” he said, offering her hand to help her onto the front seat of the wagon. Once she made sure she was situated, he climbed up himself. “Did you have a nice visit with Miss Gilbert?”

“Oh, yes. She’s very excited about her wedding.”

“That’s good, I suppose,” Mr. Mitchell said, clearly unsure of what to say.

“How is Faye? You don’t think I’ve been riding her too much?” Gwen asked, changing the subject to save them both from any awkwardness.

He seemed to brighten instantly. _He must really enjoy his work_ , Gwen thought and wondered what that feeling must be like.

“No, I think your rides are good for her. She seems more alive since you’ve been back.”

Gwen smiled. “That’s good to hear. I worry about her.”

“No need, Miss Ashwood. That’s my job,” he smiled. “Besides, I think you have enough to worry about.”

She sighed and gripped the railing as they drove over a bumpy patch of road. She did have enough to worry about.


	19. Chapter 19

_**Present Day** _

 

“There, perfect,” Elaine said as she finished styling Gwen’s hair.

Gwen didn’t understand why the initiation was such a big affair; it was just a spell. But she smiled and thanked Elaine for her help. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I can be.”

“Good. Le’s go.”

Elaine led her through the house to where the ceremony would take place, in the center of the compound. Apparently, that was only space large enough for them to form the circle. For a coven that was supposedly shrinking, there seemed to be a lot them. There had to be at least hundred by Gwen’s estimate. She took several deep breaths to calm her nerves, thankful she could play it off as a natural apprehension before an important event.

It was freezing outside. The dress she was wearing did nothing to block the cold. Sleeveless with thin chiffon cinched at her waist, Gwen might as well have been wearing nothing She would have happier in jeans and a sweatshirt but no one had asked her. At least the wind had stopped.

The coven had already gathered and taken their places around a small altar, a fire already blazing. Gwen assumed that was where she would perform the spell. Elaine finally untied her hands once they reached the alter. She gave Gwen an encouraging smile before taking her place in the circle. The coven began chanting in unison.

Gwen found it creepy.

She began mixing the ingredients together for her own spell, muttering her own chant as she did.

The two spells were so similar; it was almost too easy to trick them. Once she felt the affects of the coven’s spell, she threw her mixed ingredients into the fire. The flames turned blue, jumping to a height a height of three feet. Members of the circle exchanged curious glances, except for Tina and John. They looked right at her, suspicion growing on their faces.

But it was too late. They couldn’t afford to stop her without suffering serious repercussions from interrupting their own spell. Gwen chanted louder, watching with satisfaction as their expressions were overcome by fear.

She was, quite literally, making their magic backfire on them. Initiating her into their joined magic allowed Gwen access to their shared power, which made it easy to target all of them at once. Her own spell took control of the collective magic and bent it to her will, but only for as long as she could keep saying the spell. The minute she stopped, or was unable to continue, the spell would backfire on her. Ignoring the blood already falling from her nose, she focused all her strength on her chanting.

Realizing how helpless they were, the coven panicked. They shouted to Tina, asking her what they should do. A few kept chanting the initiation spell, too afraid of what might happen if they stopped. Tina ignored them all. She glared at Gwen, refusing to give up her efforts.

Gwen chanted her spell three more times before there was a loud crackle, followed by a blinding white light.

Thrown through the air, Gwen landed on the muddy ground with a thud that knocked the wind out of her. She breathed heavily, trying to orient herself despite a powerful dizziness. It was a while before she noticed the silence. Slowly, she pushed herself up and looked around her. The fire had been reduced to smothering embers, the only light coming from the porch lamps of the nearest houses.

The only damage appeared to be to the altar, which had been completely demolished. Gwen thought she was alone until she caught the silhouettes of unmoving lumps on the ground. She had done it: They were all dead. There was no triumph to be felt, though. The body nearest to her was a girl who looked to be about Gwen’s age. She could see the frozen look of shock on the girl’s face.

Gwen thought she was going to be sick.

She tried to stand, desperately thinking of a way to escape, but was only able to get herself into a kneeling position. Zach undoubtedly would have felt the coven’s loss, and he was probably already on his way. The spell would have affected him physically, but Gwen figured he would be mobile in a day — two days if she was lucky.

“Gwen!”

She looked around in shock, expecting to see one of the bodies moving. Though would they not have called her a bitch, or something like that? Why would they have addressed her by name?

Without vampire senses, Gwen had no hope of hearing their footsteps as they sped toward her. Before she could even recognize that it was Damon and Stefan who had found her, she was being pulled to her feet.

“She’s shaking and freezing,” Stefan observed.

“Of course she is. She’s wearing a flimsy dress and covered in mud,” Damon snapped. But he took off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“I think she’s in shock,” Stefan said. Gwen thought his voice was oddly calm. Why were they not freaking out? They were surrounded by at least a hundred dead bodies. Even vampires should be surprised at such a sight.

“Gwen, listen to me,” Damon said gently as he took her face in his hands. He forced her to look at him, his blue eyes searching his face. Gwen thought it was odd; Damon wasn’t gentle. He tried, but it was rarely out of genuine concern.

“Hey,” he said bringing her attention back to him. “What happened here?”

Gwen was confused. Was it not obvious? Her voice was caught in her throat. When she finally managed to speak, her voice was shaky. “I-I had to….”

Damon’s eyes widened as he realized what she did, but he didn’t ask her any more questions. He just picked her up, bridal style. Gwen curled into him, knotting her hands into his shirt, despite the voice in her head screaming at her to get away from him.

A few weeks ago she would have listened to it. She _had_ listened to it. But she didn’t care anymore. She was so tired.

* * *

 

 

“Let’s go,” Damon said before setting off at a brisk pace. He would have used his vampire speed, but it might be too much for Gwen. She looked worse than the night he had found her leaving Mystic Falls. Whatever spell she had done had almost been too much.

“What about the mess?” Stefan asked, gesturing to the circle of bodies behind them.

“Who cares?” Damon shrugged. “If there are any survivors, they’ll cover it up. And if the cops find it, they can’t trace it to Gwen. Besides,” he added, “the easiest thing would be to set it all on fire and that would draw even more attention.”

Gwen was shaking against him. Damon held her closer. Whether it was cold or shock, they needed to keep her warm.

“Where are we going to take her? Back to Mystic Falls?” Stefan asked. Damon noticed he was looking over his shoulder every so often. Damon thought it was unnecessary. It was pretty obvious there was no there but them.

“No, I know a place we can go. It’s more secluded, and no one knows about it.”

“Another secret?” Stefan asked sounding slightly amused.

“Yep. Get the door.”

Stefan opened the door to the backseat of the car. Damon set her inside as gently as he could and then wrapped her in the blankets they had brought with them. “I’ll be right back, ok?”

She nodded weakly, though she seemed to be struggling to stay conscious. He helped Stefan quickly clear the car of their makeshift coverage so they could get on the road. Damon grabbed a bottle of water from the trunk before sliding in the backseat next to Gwen, who was sitting with her legs pressed against her chest and rocking back-and-forth a little. He pulled her to him, fighting the feeling of satisfaction when she clung to him.  He fished his cell phone from his back pocket, pulling up a map of their destination.

“Here,” he said, handing Stefan the phone.

“Maine?” Stefan asked, disbelief and shock coloring his voice. “Why do you have a place in Maine?”

“Because it’s the last place anyone would expect me to go,” Damon said, sounding proud of himself.  “Smart of me, wasn’t it?”

Stefan rolled his eyes and started the car. “How’s she doing?”

Through the rearview mirror, Stefan saw his brother glance down at Gwen, who had repositioned herself so that she was lying down with her head on Damon’s thigh, and take her vitals. “She’s asleep, but her breathing and pulse are fine. She’ll probably be out for awhile, if the last time was any indication.”

“So what’s the plan? Not that our planning ever seems to pay off.”

“Take her to my small, but quaint cabin in the middle of nowhere and let her recover?” Damon suggested. “I don’t know. Once she wakes up, I’m sure she’ll have her own ideas of what she’s going to do. She always does.”

“We can’t be gone forever, you know. People will get suspicious.”

“And by people you mean?”

“Klaus and his siblings. They’re about as good as we are at minding their own business. And then there’s Elena —”

“And Caroline!” Damon interjected.

“And Caroline,” Stefan conceded. “I’m sure Bonnie will tell them, if she hasn’t already, where we’ve gone. While Caroline will be rightfully annoyed with me for not telling the entire truth of where we went, I think things are going to be a bit more complicated for you.”

Damon shrugged as he absent-mindedly played with Gwen’s hair. “I’ll deal with it.”

Stefan remained silent, not sure of what to say. His brother was, yet again, in a mess of his own making. He knew Elena wouldn’t hold it against him for trying to help Gwen. The lying, however, that was going to be a problem.

* * *

 

“Damon’s where?” Elena asked, smiling in disbelief. “Saving his former wife?” 

“Yeah,” Bonnie said gently. “She was in trouble and they were the only ones who could help her. Those witches killed her whole family.”

Sitting in the Gilbert’s living room, Bonnie and Caroline had decided to tell Elena the truth. It had been two days since the boys had left, and no one had heard from them. The minute she had opened the door, Elena’s face had fallen into frown. She could tell her friends had bad news for her. 

“Why didn’t he tell me?” Elena demanded. “Why didn’t Stefan tell Caroline?”

Caroline shrugged helplessly, feeling bad for Elena. Stefan might have lied to her too, but at least it wasn’t his secret wife they disappeared to save. Elena had seemed genuinely happy for her when she dropped the news about dating Stefan, but Caroline didn’t want to rub it in by comparing Salvatores.

“It’s Damon,” Bonnie supplied weakly.

“He probably didn’t want Klaus to find out? He was responsible for her dying before, right?” Caroline offered. Bonnie nodded in agreement. Still, neither of them could tell Elena why Damon had not told her the truth.

“I can’t believe this,” Elena sighed, running her hand through her hair. “I can’t believe he did this!”

She got up from the couch and started pacing. Bonnie and Caroline exchanged a glance that was sympathetic but disbelieving. How could she not expect Damon to do something like this? They had known him as long she had, and they were no longer surprised by his actions — annoyed and frustrated, but not surprised. They wanted to reassure her that Damon loved her and they would work it out. But they couldn’t.

Damon was unpredictable. If they were honest with themselves, they shared Stefan’s opinion that Damon and Elena were no good for each other. There was only passion and lust and drama—way too much drama for any couple.

“Bonnie!” she said, rounding on her friend. “You need to help me find out where they went. I can’t wait for him to decide to come back. I need to know what’s going on.”

“Ok,” Bonnie sighed solemnly. Of course she would help her friend. That’s what she did right?


	20. Chapter 20

**_1861_ **

The day of the Salvatore’s spring soiree was sunny and warm. Gwen kept the window of the carriage pulled down as she was driven to the Salvatore plantation. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been to the plantation; Damon had hated being there. They spent most of their time on the trails and exploring the woods. When he had to look after Stefan, the boys would come over her house. She sighed at the memories Her parents had probably dragged her to a similar party at the estate the last time she saw it. Today she would be alone. 

Mr. Mitchell stopped the carriage in front of the house and climbed down to help her out. Gwen smiled and thanked him before straightening out her lilac dress. Her corset felt a bit tight, like she was struggling to breathe. Had Emily tied too tight? Was she gaining weight? She pushed the thoughts aside, just a product of her nerves.

Realizing she probably looked odd standing still in front of the house, she lifted her skirt and walked up the few stone steps to the door. Gwen jumped a little at how quickly the door swung open after she knocked. It wasn’t a servant or slave who opened the door so diligently, which was unusual. It was a boy, who was dressed very well. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn’t quite place him. He was almost as tall as she was, though it obvious he was a few years younger.

“Gwen!” he said, his face lighting up. “Er, I mean, Hello Miss Ashwood. We’re happy you could make it.”

“Stefan?” she asked surprised. She could see hints of his younger self now, and was amazed at how much he had changed. “You’re so grown up. I didn’t recognize you!”

This statement seemed to make him happy, and his smile grew wider as he offered her his arm. Gwen accepted, letting him lead her through the house and out to the garden where everyone was gathered.

“Damon mentioned you were back,” Stefan said.

“Yes, we’ve seen each other a few times,” she replied, hoping she sounded casual.

“He’s really happy about it,” Stefan continued as he directed them to a table that was laden with food and silver punch bowl perfectly poised in the center. “He won’t say so, of course. But he’s definitely been happier since the party at the Lockwood’s.”

Happy? He had seemed angry to her the two times she saw him. Stefan must be wrong. There was another reason why Damon was happy, and it had nothing to do with her. Stefan handed her a glass of punch, and she smiled.

“Where’s your father?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

“He isn’t well,” she explained, avoiding Stefan’s curious look. “He asked me to come in his place. I fear my father’s presence means more than mine, however, especially when it comes to unofficially solving town matters.”

Stefan nodded. “Well, here’s the food, obviously. And there are some games set up over there,” he said, pointing vaguely behind him where Gwen could see a group playing croquet. “And there’s the maze.”

“The maze can’t possibly be ready. Spring’s barely started.”

“Technically, it’s the maze from last year. And the plant father used is like a pine tree, but a bush? I don’t know. They’ll take it down and start on another one in the next week or so,” Stefan shrugged. He did not really care about mazes and plants. “Will you be all right if I go? There’s a game starting.”

“Of course. Thank you, Stefan.” She waved good-bye and set her glass down. Maybe she would explore the maze, at least she would not feel so exposed. Avoiding the covert glances of curious party guests was more difficult than she liked; apparently, she did care about what people thought of her now. She swore this would be the last time she attended one of these things alone. Gwen would rather be thought a recluse than gawked at.

Once she stepped inside the maze, she felt a calmness wash over her. It had been so long since she had walked a maze, and she wondered how long it would take her to finish. Any excitement felt, though, quickly shattered at the familiar voice behind her.

“It’s a bit rude to go off on your own at a party, especially when you haven’t even thanked the hosts for inviting you.”

Damon sauntered up to her; the usual smug look was plastered on his face. Gwen fought the urge to smile, though she wasn’t sure what she was smiling about. Where had he come from? She had barely walked feet inside the maze.

“I spoke to Stefan,” she said, shrugging like that was enough. “I hardly think your father will care whether I say hello or not. I doubt he even knows who I am.”

“You spoke to Stefan?” Damon asked. A brief flash of worry showed itself in his features, but he quickly recovered.

“Yes, he escorted me in. I can’t believe how grown up he is,” she said, unable to stop the smile. Stefan had always been a sweet boy. He was always bringing her flowers he had picked, and trying to help her or his brother. Those were good memories.

“Did he, uh, say anything to you?”

“Like what?”

“Uh, nothing,” he said, running his hand nervously through his hair. “Can we talk?”

“Only if you promise to not be cross while you escort me through the maze,” she teased.

Damon laughed and began walking next to her without bothering to offer his arm. He must have remembered how she insisted on being allowed to walk unaided.

“I never got your letters,” he blurted out.

Her face scrunched up in confusion. “What?”

“I never received any of your letters,” he repeated, looking down at his feet as they walked. “I think my father must have intercepted them. You know he did not approve of our friendship.”

“Neither did my aunt,” Gwen admitted quietly. “That was one the reasons she insisted I leave with her.”

“Anyway, that’s why I was so angry with you. I thought you had just left. I didn’t know…”

Gwen nodded, unsure of what to say. They walked in silence for several minutes, both deep in thought.

“My father’s worse,” Gwen finally said. “It’s like my mother’s illness all over again. I’m not sure what I should do.”

“I’m sorry,” Damon muttered. “I guess you’ll be staying for a while.”

She shrugged. “He wants me to leave, but I told him I wouldn’t.”

“Why do you have to leave?” Damon asked.

“I-I can’t tell you,” she sighed. It was her turn to look at her feet. She knew she would probably tell him if she met his eyes.

“Why not?” he asked, slightly frustrated.   
  
Gwen wrung her hands together, like she always did when she was uncomfortable. “It’s complicated, and you would never believe me.”

“Those are excuses,” he accused.

She could feel him staring at her, but Gwen refused to look at him. She kept her eyes downcast and tried to come up with a way to steer the conversation away from her. Sadly, nothing was coming to mind. Besides, Damon was like a dog with a bone. He would never let this go.

“Telling you could lead to my death,” she said quietly. Damon’s hands were suddenly gripping hers, forcing her stop her nervous hand wringing and turning her to face him.

“How?” he demanded.

“You need to let go of me. If someone finds us —”

“Damn it, Gwen!” His voice was a harsh whisper. He maneuvered them off the main path and into a dead end alcove hidden from general foot traffic. “Why would telling me get you killed?”

“Damon if I tell you…” She trailed off, groaning in frustration that she didn’t know how to explain without explaining. “It’s a family thing. I have no choice in it, but I won’t be persecuted because someone is afraid of what they don’t understand.”

“What the hell are you going on about?!”

She didn’t mean for it to happen, not consciously at least. She was just so stressed out and afraid of what Damon would do or say if she told him the truth, and his grip on her hands was getting uncomfortably tight. It felt like an instinctive defense when she was cornered, and her magic took it from there: a small, but noticeable shock passed between them. Had he not already been touching her, she would have waved it off as static. But he had been, and the shock was strong enough to cause him to release her hands. 

“What was that?”

“I-I don’t know,” she said, feigning ignorance Anyone else would have waved it off, pretended like nothing weird had happened, but not Damon. His eyes darted back and forth between her face and hands, his frown deepening with each second. She took a step back from him and bumped into the wall of the maze, fighting to keep her hands from twisting anxiously.

“That was you, wasn’t it?” he asked, his eyes holding her gaze.

“Of course not!” she said, rolling her eyes as if that was one of the dumbest things she had ever heard. “Will you please drop this? Can’t we just have a nice walk?”

“You were always an awful liar, Gwen,” he said, a hint of smugness in his voice. “You always look guilty when you try to lie.”

Frustrated, she tried to push past him, only for him to move and block her with his body. “Damon,” she hissed, “just let it go.”

“No!” he all but shouted. “I-I don’t want you to leave, not again.”

Her frustration and fear melted away at the look on his face. He looked sad and sounded desperate. Gwen reached out for his hand, rubbing soothing circles on the back of it with her thumb.

“Telling you doesn’t mean I don’t have to leave,” she said softly. “In fact, it probably guarantees that I will. And five years is a long time….”

“You’re not that different,” he muttered, leaning his forehead against hers.

“You’re so stubborn,” she chuckled without humor.

“I could go with you.”

“You won’t want to.”

“You don’t know that,” he challenged. “We used to talk about running away, remember?”

She hummed in agreement.

Pulling away, he tilted her chin up and brushed some flyaway hair out of her eyes. “Why don’t you trust me?”

“I want to tell you, _I do_.” Gwen felt her eyes begin to sting and blinked quickly. “I’m so alone right now, and you’re the only one I know well enough to even consider sharing this with. But telling you, even if you don’t turn on me, will still put you at risk.”

“I won’t betray you,” he said earnestly.

She sighed and closed her eyes. _Could_ she tell him? Would it be so awful if she did? Was she just being selfish because all she had was a sick father who was unable to help or support her? These thoughts were momentarily pushed aside when she felt his lips against hers. Both of his hands were on her waist, pulling her closer to him. Her own hands remained flat against his chest; the kiss was chaste but nice.

A faint laugh from the party brought Gwen back to her senses. She gently pushed Damon away, looking down for a minute to make a decision. He stared at her, clearly confused when she met his gaze with a determined expression.

“I’m a witch,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. 

Damon froze, though his hands fell from her waist. Gwen’s heart pounded in her ears and small bead of sweat rolled down the back of her neck. He was staring at her blankly, as if he did not recognize her.

This was a bad idea. She should not have told him. She needed to leave. Slowly, as if someone else were controlling her, she moved around him and set off down the path. Why had she even gone into the maze? It would take her forever to find her way out. She had not been paying any attention to which turns she would take. Gwen was so caught up in her thoughts of getting out, she did not hear Damon calling after her.

“Will you wait for a minute?” he shouted, running to block her path. “You can’t just tell someone that and then leave!”

Gwen stopped and waited for him to continue. She folded her arms across her stomach to try to keep herself from fidgeting.

“Prove it,” he said.

“Prove it? You want me to prove that I’m a witch when anyone could around the corner and catch me?” _That_ was one of the dumbest things she had ever heard in her life. Was he crazy?

“No one’s coming. Just…please…”

He sounded so earnest that she caved. Pulling some needles off the nearest branch, she walked over to an expectant Damon. After checking for possible witnesses, she focused on levitating the pile of needles. Within seconds, they were hovering a few inches above her open palm. “Believe me now?”

Damon nodded, and she let the needles fall to the ground.

“So?” she prompted. “What now?”

He stepped toward her. He was nervous, but he did not seem scared. “We need to talk about this. You need to tell me what’s going on, but not here. You’re right, this isn’t the place to discuss this. I’ll come to your father’s tomorrow.”

She let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through her. “You don’t think I’m evil?”

A small smile appeared on his face. He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight. “Of course not. But promise you won’t turn me into a toad when you get mad at me.”

She laughed and buried her face in his chest.

“We should get back to the party,” he said, pulling away from her. “I’m sure our absence has been noted.”

“I thought you didn’t care what people said?” she asked, taking his arm.

He smirked. “Of course, I don’t. But I doubt you want to draw any unnecessary attention to yourself.”

“That was the plan, though I don’t know if it’s possible with you involved,” she teased.


	21. Chapter 21

_**Present Day** _

 

“What took you so long?” Damon snapped from his place on the couch. Stefan had run out to get them supplies over a day ago. He knew they were in the middle of nowhere, but the nearest store was still only two hours away 

Stefan huffed in annoyance as he closed the cabin door behind him.

“The nearest hospital is ten hours away from us. I had to go to the hospital, sneak in, steal the blood, drive back — which took even longer because I had to keep refilling the cooler with ice and not draw attention to myself — and go to the grocery store and pharmacy. A thank you wouldn’t kill you. The isn’t the most convenient hiding spot, especially if you wanted to actually survive.”

“Well, it would be if we were feeding off of humans instead blood bags,” Damon said, ignoring brother’s rant. “Camping accidents happen all the time.”

Stefan made too much noise carrying in the bags and cooler, causing Damon to glare at him. Gwen had only just calmed enough to sleep; though he knew it was only a matter of time before her nightmares returned and he had to calm her. She hadn’t slept for more than hour straight since they took her from the compound.

“How is she?” Stefan asked, focused on putting away the groceries.

“About the same,” Damon said, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “She’s still weak. She can barely sit up on her own, and I have to force her to eat. She gets about a half hour, maybe an hour, of sleep before she starts screaming again.”

“What’s she screaming about?”

Damon shrugged. “I don’t know. It could be Latin, but it sounds like gibberish. I’m not sure if it’s guilt or trauma or if something is haunting her.”

“Could be all three. Maybe….”

“Maybe what?” Damon asked, standing up and facing his brother. Stefan paused his unpacking, looking uncomfortable and rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Maybe we need to take her to a hospital,” Stefan suggested.

“What could they do for her at a hospital?” Damon asked incredulous.

“I don’t know,” Stefan snapped. “Maybe help her get better? We don’t know what we’re doing. We could be making it worse.”

“They’ll treat her and put her looney bin!” Damon said harshly. “And that’s the most positive outcome. What if she says something about killing a bunch of people and they call the police?”

“Even if she did, there’s no proof. And they would never be able to figure out how one person was able to kill one hundred people. She would never go to jail, let alone be charged with anything,” Stefan reasoned.

“I’m not taking her to a hospital,” Damon said stubbornly. “She’s fine here.”

“All right,” Stefan sighed, accepting his brother’s decision. “You need blood. You look awful.”

“Rude, brother,” Damon said, but he walked over and grabbed a bag out of the cooler.

“Uh, by the way, Bonnie and Caroline told Elena about our little road trip. They’ll probably be heading up here in a day or two.”

“How?” Damon asked, both surprised and annoyed.

“She had Bonnie do a locator spell. Caroline’s been trying to talk her out of it, but she’s made up her mind. The confrontation that will happen between you and Elena won’t be good for Gwen. That’s why I suggested a hospital. She needs a stable environment right now.”

Damon kicked a nearby stool, tipping it over. “Fuck! Can’t I deal one thing at a time?”

“Apparently not,” Stefan said grimly. “Listen, I can head down and meet them halfway. Maybe stall them a bit, but you’re going to have to deal with Elena.”

Damon nodded stiffly and silently finished his blood bag. He could probably deal with Elena with one phone call, but he owed her more than that. Still, taking care of Gwen was his first priority. Speaking of, his outburst must have woken her. He could hear the increase of her heart rate and it sounded like she was trying to sit up. He cursed himself and threw away the empty blood bag. On his way to her room, he grabbed a water bottle.

“Hey,” he said upon entering the room. “Thirsty?”

Gwen had managed to push herself into a sitting position, her weight supported by the wall behind the bed. The dark circles under her eyes made her look sick. Damon supposed she was, in a way. With shaking hands, she reached out and took the water from him.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

“Sorry,” Damon sighed, sitting on the bed next to her. “I got some bad news from home, and, uh, lost my temper.”

“Oh,” she said. Her voice was so quiet, Damon was not sure if he would have been able to hear her without his vampire hearing. She closed her eyes for a moment, and then pushed herself up to straighten her posture. “You have blood on your mouth.”

He smiled and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Better?”

“Mmhmm. Stefan’s finally back from running errands?”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” Damon reprimanded, glaring slightly. “You’ll get better faster if you get some rest.”

Smiling, Gwen just shrugged.  “I had Stefan pick up some things. I’ll be able to make some potions to help me get better.”

“What’s your rush?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“The leader of the coven will be after me, I need to go...somewhere.”

“He can’t find you unless he has something of yours. Since they burned your house down and abandoned your car, and _we_ have what was in your car, I don’t think their leader will be able to find you.” 

“He’ll find another way,” Gwen said, turning her head to look out the windows. She was silent a few minutes before asking, “Why did you come after me?”

“Well, Stefan likes to play the hero,” he joked. He noticed her wring her hands, and smiled. She always did that when she was nervous. “It doesn’t really matter. You got yourself out in the end.”

Her gaze dropped to her hands as her guilt resurfaced. Damon sensed her mood change and took one of her hands in his, calling her attention back to him.

“They weren’t innocent, Gwen,” he rationalized. “You did what you had to do.”

“I did,” she sighed. “But…a lot of them were probably blackmailed into that coven. Or they were tortured like I was. Someone may have been innocent.”

“Guilty by association,” Damon muttered. Gwen pulled her hand away and brought her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them while trying to focus on her breathing. Damon did not understand. How could he? How many people had he killed over the years? Probably hundreds.

“My parents would be disappointed,” she said, her voice shaking with unshed tears. “Helen would be disappointed.”

Damon ran his hand through his hair, taking a moment to get his temper under control. This was the most she had talked since they had found her, and he didn’t want to do anything to make her clam up again. Shifting over to Gwen, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“I don’t know what your parents would have wanted,” he started. “I know people make a big deal about dying for what’s right or what you believe in, but this wasn’t one of those situations. Your parents and Helen died because they wanted you to live. I think they’d be ok with you being alive right now.”

“That’s what I told myself, but…I-I just don’t know any more,” she said, her voice breaking as the tears fell. Damon pulled her closer and rubbed circles into her shoulder with his thumb. “I feel so guilty. I think I was wrong.”

Damon let her cry, doing his best to calm her. He had a wet spot on his shirt by the time she stopped crying. He reached for the box of tissues next and gave it to her so she could clean herself up.

“Listen, I get that this is something you’re going to have a hard time dealing with. You killed a lot of people,” he said bluntly. “For now, you need to focus on getting better and deciding what you want to do about this Zach guy. Personally, I think you should stay with Stefan and me. You’ll be much better off with us than on your own. We even have a Bennett witch back home.”

“You shouldn’t volunteer people to die,” she muttered.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he said, rolling his eyes. “He’s one witch now, right?”

“As far as I know,” she shrugged and quickly regretted the action. She was inexplicably sore, though she guessed it had to be a side effect from using dark magic.

“Then he’s not as powerful as he was. I think a few vampires and a couple of witches should be able to handle him easily,” Damon said confidently.

“Maybe, maybe not. I never met him, but I know he’s smart and cruel. People there were afraid of him, even those that weren’t there by force. I don’t want to underestimate him and get more people killed. Besides,” she added, “I don’t think your girlfriend would be very happy with me coming back to Mystic Falls.”

“She may not be my girlfriend for much longer. She’s extremely pissed with me.”

“Why? Couldn’t get rid of the sire bond?”

Damon’s eyes widened in shock and he shot her a curious look. He was pretty sure he had never told her about that.

“Stefan mentioned it when I was in Mystic Falls,” she explained. “When you were holding me prisoner.”

“Stefan should keep his mouth shut and _I_ didn’t hold you as a prisoner,” he said defensively. “But that would be one of the reasons, when she finds out. Right now, she’s mad because I didn’t tell her I was going after you.”

“Well, who wouldn’t be pissed?” Gwen asked in disbelief. “Do you have a problem with telling the truth?”

“Some say I do,” he mused. “I just didn’t think it was necessary.”

“Maybe I should be in a hospital, or at least very far from here by the time she arrives.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said dismissively. “Do you want to try walking to the kitchen and have some food?”

“Yes,” she said hesitantly. “I’m tired of being in this bed.”

Damon smirked as he helped her up. She slapped him on the back of his head once she was standing. He didn’t bother to pretend that it hurt.

“What was that for?”

“I saw that look,” she accused, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “Keep your mind out of the gutter.”

“No promises. Think you can make it to the kitchen on your own?”

“I’m not broken, Damon.” Her steps  _were_ a bit unsteady and slow, but she seemed fine otherwise. Damon still followed behind, ready to help her if she needed it.

“I never said you were.”


	22. Chapter 22

“All right, sounds good,” Stefan said before ending the phone call. 

“What? No ‘I love you, Caroline’?” Damon mocked.

“Be nice to your brother,” Gwen reprimanded, nudging his thigh with her foot.

They were currently camped out in the small living room of the cabin. Gwen was searching the internet, trying to find information on Zach. She thought his last name was Maxwell, but she had been eavesdropping when she heard it, so it might have been the name of someone he was looking for or even the name of a city or town he was in.

Damon was watching something on Netflix. Well, he was pretending to, at least. He spent most of his time watching Gwen. Stefan couldn’t decide if he was worried she was going to break down at any second or if some old feelings were surfacing. Stefan hoped it was the latter.

They had been at the cabin for almost a week and Gwen was already better physically — she had made a few mixtures to speed up the process — and seemed to be doing better mentally. The nightmares were less intense, waking her up only two or three times a night.

Stefan glared at his brother as he set his phone down. “You should be nice to me. _My_ girlfriend was able to convince Elena to make a small detour and spend a few days in New York City, even though she doesn’t like you.”

“Why doesn’t she like you?” Gwen asked, not taking her eyes of the computer screen.

Damon looked away from Gwen and Stefan. “We, uh, had a bit of fling and I wasn’t so nice to her.”

“You’re lying,” Gwen accused at the same time Stefan snorted derisively.

“Not entirely, just omitting a few unsavory details.”

“He was your typical vampire asshole who used anyone he wanted, however he wanted,” Stefan said, a bit of anger detectable in the hardness of his words. 

“Thanks, Stefan,” Damon said sarcastically while ignoring Gwen’s glare and kick to his side. “When are you heading down?”

“I’ll leave tomorrow morning and check in with a few people about this Zach guy on the way. I should get there by the time the girls plan on leaving.”

“And you’re going to talk them into turning around and going back home?” Damon asked.

“I’ll suggest it, but you better, uh, start coming up with some really good excuses for recent events,” Stefan said, his mouth twisting into a small smirk. “Elena sounded pretty pissed.”

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Damon said, his features settling into a glare.

“You did steal his girlfriend. He’s entitled to enjoy your pain,” Gwen teased.

“Didn’t ask for your input,” Damon snapped.

“Such a cranky, old man,” Gwen mumbled.

“It’s his default setting,” Stefan quipped, his smirk deepening.

“You two think you’re so funny,” he grumbled as he got up, heading to the kitchen to get a blood bag from the fridge. He wished they had scotch, or any alcohol, but Stefan conveniently forgotten to pick up any when he went on grocery runs.

“Thanks for checking with your friends about Zach, by the way,” Gwen said to Stefan. “I know it’s probably a long shot, but any information would be helpful at this point.”

“Anything to make you feel better about coming back to Mystic Falls. Uh, speaking of, Caroline mentioned that the all the surviving members of the Mikaelson family have left.”

“Why?” Damon asked. “They all seemed pretty comfortable where they were.”

“This should come as no surprise to you, but they didn’t bother explaining themselves before they left. They just left.”

“Better watch out, brother. Tyler might come back to town and try to win his girl back.”

Stefan rolled his eyes and threw a throw pillow at his brother’s head.

“You guys ever heard of dating outside the friend group?” Gwen asked, a little weirded out by how many partners they all had in common, especially the brothers.

“I’m not sure you can really comment, Gwen. You’ve been with Damon and Matt.”

Gwen felt her face flush. “It’s not my friend group, and it wasn’t in the same lifetime,” she defended weakly.

Stefan laughed and Gwen hid behind her laptop screen. Damon turned his back on them and pretended to be cleaning something in the kitchen, trying to hide his slight distress. He wasn’t sure why Gwen and Matt sleeping together bothered him so much. He understood why he was jealous, maybe evenly slightly possessive, but he knew it shouldn’t bother him. He and Gwen had been over for years; and he had Elena, he reminded himself. Maybe he should let Gwen go with Stefan. He was the one who had convinced them it was too dangers for her, especially if Stefan was inquiring about Zach. One of his acquaintances could be working with Zach and attack them.

Maybe he shouldn’t have. Maybe he could think clearly if she did go.

Damon sighed. It wouldn’t work; he would be too worried about her safety the whole time.

 

* * *

 

Stefan was already gone by the time Gwen woke up the next morning. She had stayed in bed, drifting in and out of sleep for an hour after waking up. She wasn’t looking forward to spending the next few days alone with Damon. Since they had been in the cabin, she had been experiencing conflicting feelings toward him. She tried chalking up her warmer feelings to the memories of her past life and her gratitude for him coming to help her. But he was a vampire who had done awful things — not that she couldn’t say the same for herself. Still, she hated herself a little for the nervous jitters she felt around him.

Sighing, Gwen threw off the blankets, deciding she had lain in bed long enough. She ran her fingers through her and tried to get the knots out as she walked down the short hallway to the main living area.

“I made pancakes,” Damon said as she shuffled into the kitchen.

“Wow, thanks,” she said, sliding onto a stool at the counter. Upon seeing the rather tall stack of pancakes, she added, “Please say you’re going to have some.”

“l will, but we can always put the extras in the fridge.”  
  
“How domestic of you,” she quipped. “I don’t get it. How do you even get electricity and an internet connection out here?”

“There’s a town about ten miles north of us. The power comes from them. I had to pay a lot of money to get them do it, but I think it was worth it.” He slid a plate of pancakes over to her.

“If there’s a town that close, then why do you keep making Stefan drive two hours for groceries?”

“It’s a small town. I didn’t want to risk him drawing attention to us. He stands out a bit,” he said. “How are the pancakes?”

“Good, thanks,” she said before taking another bite. “Why can you and Stefan cook so well? I thought vampires didn’t need to eat human food.”

“We don’t, but we still like the taste of food,” he said, watching her eat. She was practically inhaling her food. Maybe he needed to make sure she ate more. “And I guess cooking is something to do. Forever is a long time. You get to try a lot of things to pass the time.”

“Would you ever change it?” she asked, setting her fork down on an empty plate. “Being a vampire?”

“Why?” he asked, feeling slightly defensive.

She dropped her gaze and began twisting her hands. “Just curious,” she said. 

“No,” he stated simply. “I like my life. I like what I am. Would you?”

“Would I what?” she asked, returning her gaze to him.

“Change being a witch?”

“Of course,” she said without hesitation. “Just think how simple and normal my life would be if I wasn’t.”

Damon grunted. “Normal’s overrated.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Gwen replied, getting up and taking their dishes to the sink. “This is my life, and I have to deal with it.”

“That sounds more like surviving than living,” Damon observed, raising an eyebrow at her.

Shrugging, Gwen started to wash the dishes. The one thing his cabin did not have was a dishwasher, though she appreciated the mindless activity. Maybe Damon was right. She had been in hiding or running from the coven for so long, her actions were more about surviving. Everything else was just her going through the motions.

“Do you have any plans for the day?” Damon asked, suddenly behind her.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere without a car. I think I’ll be doing the same thing I have for the last few days.”

“So research, Netflix, and lots of naps?”

“Most likely. Why?”

“Just curious. I’m going to head into town. There’s, uh, something I need.”

“I thought you didn’t want to draw any attention to yourself?” she asked, turning her head slightly to shoot him a questioning look.

“I’m much better at blending in and sneaking around than my brother,” he smirked. “Should I get you anything while I’m there?”

“No, I don’t need anything.”

“All right, don’t let anyone in.”

“I’m not stupid,” she snapped. “And I can take care of myself.”

“All right, no need to get defensive,” he said, shrugging on his jacket. “You didn’t have to clean up, but, uh, thanks.

She nodded, realizing she had indeed cleaned up the pancake mess. Too lost in her own thoughts, she guessed. “No problem.”

He shifted from one foot to the other. He was uncomfortable, but she couldn’t figure out why. Was it because she asked about him wanting to be a vampire? She had just been curious and trying to make conversation.

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Stay out of trouble.”

“Should be easy enough,” she muttered, drying off her hands. The front door opened and shut, and then she was alone for the first time in several weeks.

Though Gwen was stir-crazy from being confined after so many weeks, she already felt less trapped. There were no vampires hovering and waiting for her to have a breakdown, no insane witches eyeing her suspiciously. Even being stuck in this tiny cabin with nothing to do, she felt free. Maybe she would go outside and go for a walk. It would be nice to get out and move. She was sure she would be fine. If Zach was already looking for her, she doubted he would be able to trace her here. A little walk would be fine, especially if she stayed close to the cabin and was back before Damon returned.

Gwen shook her head, annoyed with herself. Why was she trying to justify this, because she didn’t want to worry Damon? She rolled her eyes at the ridiculous thought. She was capable of defending herself and could go for a walk if she wanted. It didn’t matter Damon would say.

She decided to shower first, which may seem backwards since she planned to go for a walk and would probably just get sweaty and gross, but a shower always helped her wake up and clear her head — and she needed both this morning.

It was another overcast, grey day. Gwen shoved her hands into her coat pockets. The outerwear the boys had grabbed from her car wasn’t warm enough for the winter-like temperatures that had set in. The only gloves she had were thin, but they were better than nothing; though a scarf would have been nice.

Leaves crunched beneath her feet as she walked away from the cabin. It looked abandoned, with overgrown plants and thick layers of leaves coating the ground. Gwen wondered how long it had been since Damon had been here. The inside was in good condition and had modern accessories, but he could have paid or compelled someone to take of all of that for him.

Gwen shivered as a gust of wind blew into her. Maybe this would be a short walk, though it was relaxing to be outside and move around. She let out an exasperated sigh, her hot breath clearly visible in the chill. It was annoying how conflicted she was. She was so unsure about Damon, about what she had done to the coven, and now about going for a walk. Would anything ever be simple again? She doubted it at this point. The only thing she knew for sure was that she had to find Zach before he found her. If she gave him too much time to regroup, he would have a new coven to draw power from and then she would be right back where she started. She just wanted all of this to be over, to find some resolution.

Heading back because it was getting too cold and dark, Gwen’s walk had only lasted about an hour and a half. With a little magical help, she was able to get back to the cabin without getting lost.

“Where were you?” Damon demanded, appearing out of nowhere when she closed the door. He seemed agitated, and she wondered if something had happened while he was out.

“I went for a walk,” she answered, shrugging out of her coat. As she hung it up, she thought a hot cup of tea and a Netflix binge would be a nice addition to her day. “Something wrong?”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have gone out by yourself,” Damon snapped, walking behind her as she made her way to the kitchen.

“Why not?” she asked with a small, disbelieving laugh. “It’s not like anyone knows where I am, and I’m capable of protecting myself. My magic is working fine.”

“What if someone had seen you?”

“Then they would have thought I was just out for a hike,” she shrugged. “I doubt this is the only cabin out here. I’m sure there are plenty of campers or hikers around. No one would have been suspicious.”

“Don’t do it again,” Damon said, his voice hard and his eyes glaring.

Gwen sighed and set down her mug.

 “What’s your problem?” she asked, bracing herself for some ridiculous excuse. She was thankful for his and Stefan’s help, but he had no right to tell her what she could and could not do.

“Something could have happened!” he snapped again. “What if Zach does know where you are? What if he had been out there?”

“Then I would have done what I could, just like I did last time,” she countered, matching his tone. “I’m not going to go to Mystic Falls if I’m going to be confined to the house. I’m not running or hiding any more. I’m going to deal with this, and I’m going to end it.”

“Even if that gets you killed?” he asked, folding his arms in front of him.

“Being dead is better than being tortured or a prisoner.”

Abandoning her tea, Gwen pushed past him to her room. She made sure to slam the door extra hard. She sighed in frustration and fell onto her unmade bed. Guiltily, she had been dreading the arrival of Elena and her friends; now, she found herself wishing that they would show up sooner. Damon clearly needed something to focus on other than her.

She sighed, rolling onto to her stomach to grab her laptop for that Netflix binge she had wanted.

 

* * *

 

 

After Gwen had stormed off to her room, Damon went outside to make sure no one had followed her back. Part of him knew she was right. Not only was it unlikely that she had been in any danger, but she would have been able to protect herself even if she had been. When he had come back and the cabin had been empty, he had panicked. He had thought they had taken her and it felt like that awful day back in 1861, the day she had died in the fire.

It would have been his fault for leaving her alone. He hadn’t needed anything from the town; he just needed to be away from her for a bit. He was afraid of what he might do if they were alone together for too long. The situation with Elena was already bad enough without him making it worse, or putting Gwen in the middle of it.

He left her alone for a few hours, giving them both time to calm down. On his way to check on her, he thought about bringing a cup of tea with him but decided against it. The fact that he was about to apologize was out of character enough for him. He knocked before entering, but did not wait for her response to open the door; she would ignore him if given the chance. Stepping inside, he saw that she was curled up on her bed and under the blankets. Her laptop was positioned on the nightstand so that she could watch it from the bed. She paused whatever she was watching and sat up to face him, though she didn’t seem angry.

“Can I help you?” Gwen asked.

“I’m sorry for overreacting,” he said, trying not to roll his eyes or sound sarcastic.

Her eyes widened slightly. Sighing, Damon sat down next to her on the edge of the bed, despite the fact that she didn’t move to make room for him. She seemed to be too busy watching him. 

“Why did you? I mean, it was pretty obvious nothing had happened here. These people…they like to make a mess.”

“I don’t know. I just freaked out,” he said, unable to meet her gaze for once. “In my defense, bad things tend to happen when you go off on your own. You, uh, didn’t mention the torture before,” he added after a pause.

She finally dropped her gaze. “There’s nothing that can be done about it, and I’m all healed. Well, mostly healed. But I still have the nightmares. I don’t think I can ever forget what they did to Helen. Anyway,” she rambled, shrugging, “I didn’t see the point in bringing it up.” 

“I could help you forget, you know, with compulsion,” he suggested. Damon had read enough about the condition Gwen had found her adoptive mother in, seen enough in his life to know how horrific and gory the scene had been. It came as no surprise she had trouble sleeping.

Gwen shook her head quickly. “Lots of things could break your compulsion. It’s better that I learn to live with the memories.”

“You sure it’s not because you don’t trust me?” he asked, trying to ignore the hurt feeling caused by her reaction.

“That’s not it. Well, not entirely,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “I think I need to work through this with as few magical aides as possible.”

“But the potions were ok?”

“They just healed me physically. I need to do the rest the human way,” she explained gently.

“Not because you don’t trust me?” he asked, twisting his body so that they were facing each other.

She hesitated a moment, chewing her lip in thought.

“It’s complicated,” she finally said. “Part of me does trust you, but it’s mostly based memories from my first life. I’m not saying you haven’t earned some, but I don’t know who are now — especially as a vampire.”

“So, you kind of trust me,” he said, squinting his eyes in fake-confusion. There was just the tiniest hint of playfulness in his voice.

“Yes,” she said, her lips forming a small smile. “Why does it matter to you?”

“Fuck, I don’t know,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t seem to know a lot when it comes to you.” 

“See? You get it. It’s complicated.”

Her smile had grown now and she was laughing with him. He had missed her. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten the sound of her laugh or how her gray eyes lit up when she was happy. Things may have been complicated between them, but it was amazing how easily they could get along.

“You think we could figure out how to make it less complicated?” he asked.

“Uh….Maybe? No idea where we’d start though.”

Damon was silent a moment. His mind raced as he, for once, tried to think this through. Taking a deep breath he said, “I might have one.”


	23. Chapter 23

**_1861_ **

 

“Damon, that’s insane,” Gwen said as she down on the bench in her grandmother’s garden. Despite the heat of the summer, the flowers were thriving.

“Why? No one would be suspicious of a husband and wife travelling west,” Damon replied. He remained standing in front of her, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“You can’t leave Stefan, and I can’t leave my father to die alone,” she pointed out. Gwen had been in Mystic Falls for a few months now, and her father’s health had gradually declined just like her mother’s had. Dr. Fell predicted he probably had another month left, though she selfishly hoped for more time. She didn’t want to lose her father. At the same time, it was awful to standby helplessly and watch her father suffer. He was completely confined to his bed, unable to do anything without help.

Plus, Stefan could not be left alone with their father. Giuseppe Salvatore may have been a wealthy and respected founder of Mystic Falls, but he was also an abusive drunk. Gwen could remember seeing the evidence of his of one of his “episodes” on Damon, who was often a target of his father’s anger. He seemed to have a better relationship with Stefan, but Stefan had never been as rebellious as Damon.

Gwen also suspected Damon often took the blame for anything that went wrong in order to protect his little brother. If he left him, there was no telling how Giuseppe would treat him or how Stefan might turn out.

“Besides,” she added. “It’s been months and I haven’t heard from Elijah or anything of his brother. Perhaps he’s given up?”

“He killed half of your coven just to give up when you leave, without bothering to check the only place where you have family?” Damon asked in disbelief. “That’s unlikely. I just think you don’t want to marry me.”

He said it as a joke, but part of him wondered if it was true.

Gwen saw through his forced humor and stood up, keeping eye contact with him. They were only a few inches apart, for propriety’s sake in case the staff saw them.

“I’ve only been back a few months, and we’ve been publicly courting for about half that time. It’s a bit fast.”

“Are you worried about what people would say?” he asked, searching her face for some hint of what she was thinking.

“A little,” she admitted. “But I’m more worried you’re offering to do this out of some misplaced sense of duty than it being something you actually want.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he said, his tone gentle. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him, her hands coming to rest against chest. “I love you, and _that’s_ why I want to marry you.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive,” he smiled.

“Then,” she said, folding her hands behind his neck. “I guess we should go talk to my father.”

* * *

 

They were married in mid-July at the church, with most of the townspeople as witnesses. Between the shortness of the courtship and the memories of the trouble they used to cause, people were dying to be at the ceremony. They had just wanted a small ceremony and dinner with their families, but Giuseppe had insisted on making it a big event.

To no one’s surprise, it was a hot and humid day. Women were fanning themselves and men were mopping their brows throughout the dinner. Propriety was forgotten as they guests shed their shawls and dinner jackets. They ran out of punch halfway through the party, leaving them with only wine and water. Needless to say, many people were very intoxicated and ended up having to leave early.

Gwen spent most of her time with her father, Stefan, and Sarah. The number of people made her nervous, and she wanted to avoid the group of young women who were glaring at her. She noted that they were the same women from the dinner at the Lockwood’s a few months earlier. Most of her interactions with the guests took place with Damon by her side.

Her father was both happy and sad. He knew she would be cared for when he died and they planned to go out west soon. Damon would keep her safe, and he had kept her secret. In the meantime, she would be moving to the Salvatore estate. While he had plenty of space in his empty home, it would have been considered improper and emasculating for Damon to move into his wife’s family home, especially so soon after being married. They would be temporarily moving into the guesthouse on the Salvatore estate.

“You have to come to my wedding in November,” Sarah said before she left. “I can’t believe you beat me down the aisle. And you said there was nothing between you two!”

Gwen blushed, from embarrassment or wine she was not sure. “I guess I was in denial?”

Sarah laughed and hugged Gwen tight. It was odd that Sarah was her closest friend; she had only known her for a few months, and they still barely knew each other. Gwen smiled as Sarah left with her father and brother. Damon squeezed her hand encouragingly as they saw off the last of their guests. Giuseppe should be doing this with them, but he had passed out an hour earlier from the heat and too much wine.

Gwen’s father was the last to leave. With some help from Stefan, he stood to hug Gwen goodbye and to shake Damon’s hand. Stefan left to help her father get home, Damon said, “Shall we?”

She nodded. For what felt like the hundredth time that day, she was torn between being nervous and exhausted. She and Damon had done little more than kiss since they had been together. They were usually interrupted if things started to progress further than that. She suspected that Damon had been with other women, and was worried about any expectations he might have of her. He, on the other hand, seemed unusually calm as they walked to the guesthouse and upstairs to the bedroom — their bedroom. 

Once inside, he pulled her to him and began kissing her heatedly. She responded instantly, forgetting her nervousness for a minute.

“Tired, Mrs. Salvatore?” he asked quietly when he pulled away.

“Very,” she answered, forcing a smile.

“Then I propose that we take a small nap and resume our wedding activities when we wake up.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised.

“Sadly, yes,” he said. He was the picture of feigned shame. “It’s been a very long day.”

“It has,” she agreed.

“We’re still going to make going to bed a little fun though,” he said as he picked her up, causing her to giggle. “Now, how the hell I am supposed to get you out of this dress?”


	24. Chapter 24

_**Present Day** _

 

“I don’t think that makes things less complicated,” Gwen said, trying to get her breathing under control as she stared up at the ceiling.

Damon chuckled and rolled onto his stomach, one of his arms landing across her own stomach. “You sure about that? I think things are less complicated. I feel better,” he smirked.

She lightly pushed him away, causing him to laugh and pull her closer to him. He repositioned himself so that they were both lying on their sides and facing each other. “Damon — ”

“Don’t start again,” he interrupted.

“I wouldn’t have to keep starting if you’d stop distracting me,” she said, pulling away from him slightly. This time he let her move away, but kept a hand on her side. She adjusted the sheet so that she was covered up better, ignoring Damon’s pout.

“Why do you have to ruin our fun?” he whined.

Gwen rolled her eyes and pushed herself up to a sitting position. About to get dressed, Damon sat up to pulled her back against his chest as he leaned against the wall. “Didn’t say you could leave.”

Sighing, she brought her knees to her chest. They should not have had the alcohol. She should have also insisted they move to the living room to watch Netflix so there would have been more space between them. Would the space have helped to keep them from sleeping together? She had no idea. It may have given them a second to think about what they were about to do, but everything was maybes and what ifs. She still wasn’t sure what the triggering moment had been.

“I can hear the gears turning in your head,” Damon mumbled into her shoulder. “You regretting it?”

“Yes. No,” she groaned. “I feel guilty.”

“I guess it’s good one of us does,” he said nonchalantly. She angled her head so that she could meet his gaze. He did seem unusually calm. Shouldn’t he be more worried?

“You don’t?” she questioned, not willing to believe him.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted. “But Elena and I are going to have a very long talk when she gets here, and a part of me knew it was already over.”

“So, I should be feeling used more than guilty?”

He smirked and began trailing kisses down her neck. “No, we didn’t sleep together because I needed an easy out. That happened because…well, I’m not sure why. But I don’t regret it, and I’m not opposed to it happening again.”

That earned a small laugh and an amused eye roll from Gwen. She promptly dropped her gaze to play with the sheet. “You’re not worried about me just using you?”

He grazed the skin of her neck with his teeth, causing her to tense up. He chuckled at her reaction and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her in place. “Relax, I’m not looking for another searing headache. I swear, yours are worse than Bonnie’s. And no,” he added, stopping her before she could question him again. “I’m not concerned that you were just using me. If it had just happened once, then maybe; but….”

“You’re awful,” she said, slapping his thigh.

“I promise to deal with everything,” he said, his tone implying this was the most unnecessary thing to say. “Now, can I please get back to distracting you?”

“About that….”

* * *

 

“Oh! Maybe we should go to a show?” Caroline suggested as plopped her suitcase down next to the hotel bed.

“That’s a good idea,” Bonnie chimed in.

They were desperate to distract Elena. She had been sullen and pouty since they left Mystic Falls — not that she didn’t have a right to be. Her boyfriend was currently holed up alone in a cabin with his former wife, his first love from what they had been able to infer. And try as you might to put that first love in the past, you always had a special place for it. Add in that Damon was married and expecting a child with his when she died, and well, they could not blame her being in such a bad mood.

However, they were tired of it. After being stuck with her and her mood for hours in the car, Bonnie and Caroline were ready to have a little fun. That was the whole point of this little detour, and they would enjoy themselves at any cost. At the moment, it seemed like they would have to force her to go out with them. Elena had thrown herself on one of the beds, staring sadly at the ceiling.

“I’ll see if there something,” Bonnie said as she pulled her laptop out of her bag and sat down at the desk. “Do you still have Stefan’s credit card, Caroline?”

“Yep, have to love forgetful boyfriends,” she said, digging into her purse for her wallet. After handing the card to Bonnie, she rounded on Elena. “Get up and put on something cute. We’re going out.”

“You guys go without me,” she whined. “I’ll just ruin your fun.”

“We’re not leaving you here to mope,” Caroline said, folding her arms in front of her. “You need a break from reality. We’re going to get dressed up, go see a Broadway show and some of the sights, and party a little. You may resume moping when Stefan shows up and leads us to Damon’s secret cabin.”

“She’s right, Elena,” Bonnie said without looking away from the computer screen. “You need a break from all of this. You can dread the epic talk with your boyfriend later. Right now, you need to be excitedly looking forward to our girls weekend in New York City.”

A weak smile appeared on Elena’s face. Caroline sighed in relief at the sight; they were getting through to her.

“C’mon,” Carloine said, taking her friend’s hand and pulling her up. “Let’s plan your outfit.”

“I don’t think I packed anything for this.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Caroline said, not surprised at all by Elena’s lack of preparedness. “And I figured you wouldn’t. That’s why I packed a few extra outfits.”

“You’re a good friend, Caroline.”

“I know,” she quipped, a proud smile on her face.


	25. Chapter 25

**_1861_ **

 

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be staying in bed?” Damon asked as he shrugged on his coat.

Gwen rolled her eyes, setting her cup of tea on the breakfast tray. “While I’m sure _you’d_ enjoy that, the doctor said I’m perfectly fine. I think it’s still early enough that I can handle riding over to my father’s house.” 

“This is the same doctor who can’t figure out what’s making your father ill,” Damon pointed out.  He crossed his arms and leaned against the dresser, challenging her to contradict him.

“True, and that is frustrating,” she conceded as she stood up from the bed and walked over to Damon. Wrapping her arms around him, she continued, “But he has successfully overseen many pregnancies. I believe we’ll be all right.”

“And we don’t need to be worried about anything witchy?”

“No,” Gwen scoffed. “Witches aren’t born with any deformities because they’re witches. Well, unless there’s some serious dark magic being used. Then there might be some of those deformities you’ve heard about.”

“You’re sure — ”

“Oh my god!” she snapped, slapping his chest. “Go see what your father wants, and try not to get in a fight. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Fine,” he groaned. “Please, just be careful.”

“Of course,” she smirked. “Be nice!”

 

* * *

 

 

Two hours. Damon had been arguing with his father about money for two whole hours. Giuseppe father was set on Damon staying at the estate and learning how to run it. He had refused to budge on the matter even when Damon and Gwen announced they were expecting their first child, hoping to settle into their own home. He insisted it was for the best — that Damon needed his help. Damon was furious. This whole argument could be boiled down to the fact that his father thought he was a failure and could not be trusted. Damon was done, and he needed to meet Gwen soon anyway.

“I believe it would be foolish for you to move now, especially with Gwen’s condition,” Giuseppe said. “Besides, where would you live? The hotel in town? There’s no time to have your own home built even if I gave you the money.”

“Mr. Ashwood is signing his house over to me. Given Gwen’s _condition_ and her father’s, it makes sense for us to live there,” Damon snapped.

“Are you so desperate to leave you’d resort to having your wife support you?” his father taunted.

“It’s not as emasculating as a father constantly treating his child as an embarrassment!”

Giuseppe was about to retort when Stefan barged into the room, slamming the door against the wall. He was sweaty and gasping for air. Damon immediately got up and went over to him, trying to usher him to a chair and yelling at a servant to bring Stefan a glass of water. But Stefan waved him off, coughing as he tried to inhale enough to speak.

“Damon….you need to go…fire at the Ashwood Manor,” he managed between coughs.

It took him a moment to process what Stefan was saying. Damon felt as if his heart had dropped into his stomach. Sprinting out of the room and into the courtyard, he stole one of the workhorses. As the horse galloped, Damon’s only thought was that Gwen would be fine.

But when he reached the gates of Ashwood Manor and saw the blackened building and billowing smoke, he knew she was not.


	26. Chapter 26

_**Present Day** _

 

Damon could hear Gwen constantly fidgeting in her sleep, as he had every night for the last week. It was a different kind of restless sleep than what she had experienced when they first arrived at the cabin. She refused to talk about what was bothering her, or even to admit that she wasn’t sleeping well. Worse, she had grown distant in the last few days, spending most of her time locked in her room or out walking in the woods. She barely spoke ten words a day. Between the isolated location and Gwen’s silence, Damon was losing his mind.

“So you’ve heard nothing?” Damon asked impatiently. “You sure you’re not stalling so you and Caroline can have an extended couple’s vacation?”

“I swear we’ve been looking,” Stefan sighed. “Bonnie’s even reached out to her mom to see if she or any of her friends have heard of this guy.”

“And?”

“Nothing we don’t already know, and only rumors of where he could be.”

“And, uh, how’s Elena in all of this?” Damon asked, figuring he should. He had not heard from her in couple of days.

“She had to go home for a few days. Jeremy was, uh, having some problems, but she’ll be back in two days.”

“But how is she?” Damon repeated, not interested in what drama Jeremy had found himself in this time.

“She doesn’t seem angry, but you two still have a lot to talk about.”

“I know.”

“Listen, I’ve got to go,” Stefan said. “I’m meeting Caroline to follow-up on another lead.”

“All right, thanks,” Damon said, ignoring the feeling of defeat.

“Was that Stefan?” Gwen asked, making one her few appearances for the day. She sat on the couch next to him, looking as if she had not slept for a week. Damon noticed she was still in her pajamas and her hair was messy. She must have just woken up.

“Yeah, still no luck.”

“Well,” she started hesitantly, “I’ve had some.” 

“What? How?” His curiosity piqued, Damon leaned forward.

“It’s crazy,” she said, rubbing her eyes. ‘But, uh, I had a dream. Actually, I’ve had the same dream for the last few nights. I think it’s a message from Zach. He’s on his way here.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Damon asked in disbelief. “How could he send you a message in your sleep? Or know where you are?”

“Magic,” she answered simply, shrugging. “I’ve heard of similar spells, and we know he’s powerful. We don’t really know what he’s capable of.”

“Fuck,” Damon muttered angrily.

“I think we should meet the others in New York. You don’t want him following us to Mystic Falls. I think it’ll be safer if we can get lost in a big city and lots of people.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Damon agreed, slightly thrown by how quickly she came up with a plan.

 “We should leave today,” she pressed.

“Uh, all right. I’ll go get us a car. You should get cleaned and packed. What exactly was this message?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, looking away from here. “All that matters is that we get out of here, now. I don’t think I’m strong enough to face him, not yet anyway.”

“Okay.” Damon nodded, choosing to believe her odd behavior was just a fearful reaction to the dream. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

 

* * *

 

 

“So we’ll check in, then go meet everyone for breakfast,” Damon explained as he parked the car in the hotel’s garage.

“Sounds like a plan,” Gwen said, forcing a smile. The hotel they were staying at was not as luxurious as Damon would have liked, especially after living in a cabin for so long. But Gwen had insisted on keeping a low profile. Plus, Stefan was already staying at this hotel and the girls were staying only a few blocks away.

The ride up had been awkward. Gwen had hardly spoken at all during the day they were trapped in the car together. Well, that was not entirely true. She would talk about directions, food stops, and theorize about what Zach could be planning; but she would shut down every time he tried to talk about them sleeping together. She insisted he needed to talk to Elena, which was incredibly frustrating for Damon. At that point, it was taking all his effort to just remain civil toward her.

Gwen remained silent as they checked in and made their way to their room. He ignored her; he assumed she was still unhappy they were sharing, even though he had requested separate beds. They were on their way to meet up with Stefan and the girls when she said she left something in the room and ran to catch the elevator. Damon waited for her in the lobby, wondering for the hundredth time what he had done to make her so cold.

“Sorry,” Gwen said, reappearing a few minutes later with a green scarf in hand. “Forgot my scarf.”

“Yeah, no problem. Let’s go.”

Winter in New York was obnoxiously cold, not that it really bothered Damon. However, Gwen was shivering despite the heavy winter coat they bought for her on the way to they city. Damon forced himself not to feel bad or to help keep her warm. He knew his efforts would only be rejected.

They reached the café in about ten minutes. Damon heard Gwen mumble a “thank god” as they entered the warm restaurant. Damon smirked, then noticed Stefan sitting in a booth in a back corner. Gwen spotted him a second later and led the way over to him.

“Hey Stefan,” she greeted, shrugging off her coat before sliding into the booth. Damon elected to slide in next to Stefan, and ignored the curious glance his brother shot him.

“How are you?” Gwen asked.

“Pretty good. It’s been kind of nice to be out of Mystic Falls for a while. How was the drive down?”

“Long,” Damon answered curtly, causing Gwen to shift uncomfortably and become too interested in her menu.

“Something wrong?” Stefan prompted.

“No,” Gwen responded, a little too quickly. “We’ve just had a lot of one-on-one time lately. Not much to talk about any more.”

“Really?” Stefan asked, unable to completely hide the disbelief in his voice. When both Gwen and Damon refused to elaborate, he decided to grill Damon about it privately. “Caroline just texted me that they’ll be here in about five minutes — and ‘they’ does include Elena.”

“That’s good,” Gwen said, her tone oddly positive. “From what you’ve told me, their relationship is something out of a romance novel. I’ve been telling Damon for days that he really needs to talk to her and work things out.”

Damon rolled his eyes with a scoff escape. All she had been saying was that he needed to talk to Elena; he had assumed she wanted him to end things with her, but now he realized it was the opposite. She regretted having sex with him and wanted them both to forget about it. No wonder Gwen had been avoiding him.

“Excuse me,” Gwen said, setting down her menu and picking up her purse. “I need to use the restroom.”

Once Gwen was out of earshot, Stefan turned on Damon. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Nothing,” Damon said, surprised at how well he was handling her rejection. What happened between them really must have been nothing; he would have expected this to hurt more. “It’s just what she said, too much time together.”

“I don’t buy it, but try to act normal when the others get here. We have enough to deal with,” Stefan said. “Especially if you want to try to salvage things with Elena — and I’m not sure you can.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure if I want to,” Damon muttered.

“Well, they’re here,” Stefan said, lowering his voice. “You’ll have to figure that out later.”

“Hey,” Caroline said cheerfully as she slid into the booth on the other side of Stefan. Looking all lovey-dovey, they kissed hello. Damon rolled his eyes at the nauseating sight and caught Bonnie doing the same. Elena slid in next to Bonnie. Her face was in pout mode, and she seemed to be struggling with something.

“Hello, Damon,” she said stiffly. “Where is she?”

“Hello, Elena. It’s nice to see you too,” Damon said affecting his usual smug attitude. “How’s Jeremy?”

Elena rolled her eyes and refused to answer. Sensing a fight, Caroline quickly stepped in. “Where is Gwen? I thought she was coming with you?”

“She went to the bathroom. She’ll be back in a minute,” Stefan answered. “When did you get back, Elena?”

“Last night,” she answered but her eyes never left Damon’s. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Well, that’s what we’re here to figure out,” Damon said, his signature smirk plastered on his face. “Gwen says this Zach guy has found a way to track her.”

“How?” Bonnie asked. “They don’t have a connection, and I doubt he has anything that belongs to her. How was he able to track her?”

“I don’t know. He’s been sending her messages through dreams, so something to do with that?”

Bonnie looked doubtful. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

Damon shrugged. “Well, that’s how Gwen explained it. And she grew up with magic.”

Bonnie looked unconvinced, and Damon found himself beginning to question her explanation and recent behavior. She had been ready with the plan to come to New York. Had this all been an act?

“Shouldn’t she be back by now?” Elena asked. “How long does it her to go to the bathroom?”

“We checked into the hotel and came straight here. I’m sure she’s just freshening up,” Damon explained.

“Well maybe someone should go check on her?” Elena suggested.

“ _I’ll_ do it,” Bonnie said, adding a “be nice” under her breath to Elena. Elena rolled her eyes, but let Bonnie out of the booth.

“This is nice,” Stefan said, earning him a glare from both Caroline and Elena.

“She’s gone,” Bonnie said when she returned to the booth. 

“What?” the other four asked in unison, causing some of the other diners to stare.

“She’s not in there. She must have gone out the back.”

“Why would she leave?” Elena asked. “She’s turned all of our lives upside down. How could she just leave?”

“Let’s go check the hotel,” Caroline suggested. “She probably just got nervous and needed some rest before really meeting us all. We can be a bit intimidating.”

“She took on a psycho coven. I’m not sure how intimidating we are,” Elena mumbled.

“Elena’s right,” Damon sighed, slumping in the booth. “Gwen won’t be at the hotel. She’s been acting strange for days. She just wanted to get here and disappear.”

“But why?” Stefan asked. “Going out on her own could be suicidal.”

Damon shrugged. “She never wanted or asked for our help.”

“So…what do we do?” Bonnie asked. “Do we go after her, or do we let her go?”

Everyone looked at Damon, who took a minute to answer. “We let her go, and we go home.”

“Damon, are you sure?” Stefan asked, not liking this decision for several reasons.

“It’s what she wants and we should respect that. Why don’t we just skip breakfast and go back to Mystic Falls and our lives?”

“I like that idea,” Elena said, the faintest hint of a smile appearing on her lips.


	27. Chapter 27

Gwen knocked frantically on the hotel door, checking over her shoulder as she did. The door swung open to reveal a tall, pretty brunette.

“Katherine Pierce?” Gwen asked, stepping inside.

“And you must be Gwen.” True to the rumors, Katherine didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Well, I already know who you are. Damon showed me a photo once. Pretty sure he said you were dead.”

Gwen swallowed nervously. Damon hadn’t said much about Katherine. From she’d heard, Katherine was smart, tricky, and only looked out for herself. She was one of the last people you should ever have as an ally, but she was Gwen’s last chance. Katherine was good at hiding and out-smarting those after her — something she’d learned from Elijah. If Gwen wanted to beat Zach, she was going to need Katherine’s help.

“I was. Long story short, reincarnation. We should get going. I’m sure they’ve noticed I’m gone by now,” Gwen said.

Katherine sighed and rolled her eyes. “Did you do what I said?”

“Shut Damon out? Yes.” Gwen had felt guilty doing it, but Katherine had said this would help her get away from them.

“Then he won’t be coming after you,” Katherine said, obviously bored. “Regardless of his current _relationship_ , he’s going to feel rejected. And being rejected by _you_ is going to hurt him a lot. He won’t be coming to look for you.”

“Why does my supposed rejection matter so much?”

“From what he told me, before I compelled him to leave you in the past,” she added smugly, “you were the only person who ever chose just him.”

Gwen felt her guilt grow. She really had not wanted to hurt him, but he and his friends were all better off if she was gone. There was no reason for them to get involved and risk being hurt or killed. Plus, Damon had Elena. He would be fine.

“So,” Gwen said, sitting on the end of one the hotel beds. “What do we do?”

“We need to go somewhere that no one would expect you to go, but it also can’t be last place you’d ever go. Somehow, people always find you at either, so we need a place that’s in between. Any ideas?” Katherine asked, taking on a business-like tone.

“Uh, I don’t know.” Gwen sighed. “Leaving the country would be too obvious. I can’t think of a place that I’ve said I’d absolutely never go. We shouldn’t go somewhere that’s remote; that would be expected. But I would like to keep a low profile.”

“I have the perfect place,” Katherine said with a smile. “Get your bags, we have a flight to catch.”

* * *

 

“A mansion in San Francisco wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Gwen said, dropping her bags in the living room. The flight, or flights considering the multiple connections, had been long. All Gwen really wanted was to get cleaned up and take a nap. However, she still had a lot to do before she could sleep. Stocking up on food and weather-appropriate clothing were her top two priorities.

“But it’s perfect. We’re in a densely populated area, but have enough privacy so no one accidentally sees something they shouldn’t. Like a witch casting a spell.”

“Or a vampire feeding on the delivery boy?” Gwen deadpanned.

“I said I’d drink more often from the blood bags. I didn’t say I’d give up the fresh stuff entirely,” Katherine explained without a hint of remorse. Gwen rolled her eyes, still convinced Katherine’s habits would get them caught. Sensing Gwen’s annoyance, Katherine added, “Relax. I’m over 500 years old. I know how to feed on humans without drawing any attention.”

“Whatever,” Gwen muttered. “How did you find this place so fast anyway?”

“Let’s just say a friend owed a favor. Speaking of, we should be getting your new ID and credit cards later today. Then you can go shopping for whatever,” she explained, though she was paying more attention to her phone at that point.

“I’ll need a car.”

“It’s in the garage. The keys should be with it. I’ll be by the pool if you need me, but don’t. The master bedroom is mine. You can have any of the others.”

Gwen picked up her bags and went upstairs, choosing the bedroom farthest from Katherine’s. She didn’t want to risk overhearing any “fun” Katherine may decide to indulge in.

The attached bathroom she found in her room was simply an added bonus. Unpacking took no time at all. Gwen hadn’t been able to grab much, and had shoved whatever would fit into a small carry-on and book bag. Since she was stuck in the house until her new credit cards arrived, she decided to take a bath. Katherine had told her to relax, and it would be a shame to not take advantage of the fancy bathtub. 

A half and hour later, Gwen was towel-drying her hair when there was a knock on the bedroom door.

“It’s open,” she called.

“Here are your new credit cards and ID,” Katherine said, tossing the items onto the light blue comforter. Still wearing her bikini, the vampire must have been planning to return to the pool.

Gwen stopped drying her hair, and set the towel down to inspect the cards. “Ava Clark?”

“Well we couldn’t have you using the name you gave sweet Matty. They could surprise us and decide to try to find you. Or worse, that crazy witch guy could find out about it.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Thanks.”

“Oh, don’t thank me,” Katherine said, smirking. “You still owe me a spell, and I decided I want to hear all about your nights with Matt. He was always so cute.”

“All right,” Gwen said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll start working on the spell when I get back.”

“I want Matt details,” she teased following Gwen down the hallway. “Pick up some wine. We’ll even discuss Damon’s skill set.”

“Oh my God,” Gwen groaned, quickening her pace to the garage. “I’ll see you later.”

“Can’t wait,” Katherine called after her. “I think we’ll have pizza for dinner, by the way. So don’t fill up on anything while you’re gone.”


	28. Chapter 28

“Listen, I appreciate you working so diligently on that spell,” Katherine said, strutting into the kitchen from the pool, a glass of champagne in hand. “But you really should get out, at least for a night.”

“Can’t,” Gwen mumbled, closing the book she reading and reaching for another. “This spell is as much for you as is it for me.”

They had been in San Francisco for about a week, and Gwen had spent most of that time camped out in the kitchen, which had become her workspace. Currently, there was a mess of books, herbs, and notes spread out over the counters. She had yet to make any progress on the spell, and was starting to get discouraged.

“A break will do you some good. Besides, I’m bored and I thought helping Damon’s former wife would be more fun than this,” Katherine pouted.

“Sorry that I’m boring you. I’m only trying to keep us alive,” Gwen snapped.

“Oh don’t get touchy. If you don’t agree to go out with me, I will spend the whole evening telling you all about my relationship with Damon,” she threatened. “I don’t think that would be very conducive to creating a complex protection spell, do you?”

“Fine,” Gwen surrendered. “I’ll go out.”

“Great! I’ll pick out your outfit though,” she added, her expression turning to disapproval as she took in Gwen’s sweatpants and baggy t-shirt. “I’ve seen how Gwen Ashwood dresses. Ava Clark is not going to suffer the same fashion fate.”

“It’s Anderson, actually,” Gwen corrected.

“Whatever,” Katherine said, pouring herself another glass of champagne. “I can’t keep track of all your aliases. Be ready to head out by nine.”

* * *

 

 

“Oh god,” Gwen groaned. “Why did I do that?” 

Her head was pounding and she turned to bury her face in the back of the couch to avoid the brightness of the sun. What she could recall of the night before consisted of loud music and lots of drinks. Her stomach turned at the thought, and she groaned again. She hoped she wasn’t about to be sick; there was no way she was moving from the couch anytime soon.

“Rise and shine!” Katherine chirped, plopping down on the couch next her.

“Go to hell,” Gwen managed to mumble.

“Don’t be like that,” Katherine chastised before grabbing Gwen’s forearm and forcing her to sit up. “Drink this,” she instructed, handing Gwen a glass of water. “Start with that, and we’ll see how you feel.”

Gwen took the glass and slowly sipped the water. “Thanks. So what happened last night?” 

“Nothing too scandalous. We drank, we danced, and we made some new friends.”

“New friends?” Gwen asked skeptically. “Any of them survive the night?”

“Yes,” Katherine pouted. “Mine may have lost a few pints, but he’s alive. And you abandoned your guy long before we left. You’re quite the dancing queen.”

“Oh god,” she groaned, covering her face with her free hand.

“Relax,” Katherine huffed. “You needed to blow off some steam. Now, you need to get over this hangover and have an epiphany for the spell.”

“Yeah, it’s that simple,” Gwen snapped. “I’m going to shower and then eat. If I feel up to it, I might work on the spell today.”

“My ass is just as much on line as yours!” Katherine called after her.

Gwen rolled her eyes even though Katherine couldn’t see her. At this point, she was just as desperate to get the spell right for her own protection as she was to get away from Katherine. Their _friendly_ relationship was fragile; she knew they were each just using each other. The only reason she felt reasonably confident was that Katherine really had nothing to hold over Gwen’s head. Well, that and Katherine knew Gwen was too powerful for her to really threaten her.

She sighed and turned the shower faucet on to let the water heat up. When she turned around to set the glass of water on the counter she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked awful: Her hair was a tangled mess and her makeup was smeared so bad she looked like a raccoon. And, fuck, there was a hickey on her neck. She was going to kill Katherine, unless someone showed up and killed them first. As she stepped into the shower, she hoped she would have that epiphany Katherine was talking about. She was due to catch a break soon, right?


	29. Chapter 29

“That’s nice, Damon,” Stefan said, his face twisting into a grimace at the sight of the sorority girl with obvious bite marks passed out on the couch. Damon was at the bar, pouring himself a glass of bourbon. “So… this is your life now? No Elena, no Gwen. Just drinking?” 

“Stefan, shut up,” Damon snapped. “Yes, this is all I need. It’s easy, drama-free. You can’t tell me there’s no drama with dear, sweet Caroline.”

“Things are fine with Caroline. And honestly, there’s less drama with Caroline than there ever was with Elena,” he added.

“It’s amazing how being with someone who hates your brother leads to less drama.”

“You don’t think she has a few valid reasons to hate you?” Stefan asked in disbelief. His brother seemed a little surprised by how Caroline felt about him.

“Oh no, I’m crystal clear on the reasons,” Damon quipped as he slid into one of the leather chairs. “I manipulated and used her, risked her and her friends’ lives several times over for selfish reasons, and drove one of her best friends insane. Anything else?”

“No, I think that covers it,” Stefan sighed.

“Cheer up, brother. You’re still the good guy. You got the girl. Your life is perfect,” he listed with a smirk before downing his drink.

“Except my brother is slowly destroying his life,” Stefan said as he sat in the other chair across from Damon. The girl let out a quiet moan and shifted in her sleep. “You can’t keep doing this, Damon. You could make things right with Elena, and then go and find Gwen.”

“Elena is never going to forgive me. I slept with another woman, who I swore I had no feelings for. I told her all of this after we came back, and the woman in question had disappeared off the face of the earth.”

“You were honest and there were consequences, but it was the right thing to do,” Stefan insisted. “Besides, Elena’s doing better. She and Matt seem to be very happy.”

“I bet Donovan is very happy. He finally got what he wanted.”

“You could be happy, too. We could find Gwen. We found her last time. I still think she ran off to keep you, and our friends, safe.”

“We only found her last time because Bonnie helped us. I don’t think she’ll be up for helping out this time.”

“So what? You can’t do anything with out the help of a witch?” Stefan challenged. Maybe he could play on his brother’s pride and force him out of his self-pity.

“Nice try,” Damon said, pushing himself out of the chair and walking over to refill his glass. “Even if I wanted to find Gwen, she’d probably be gone by the time I figured out where she was.”

“Do you have anything better to do?”

Damon paused mid-pour and found himself unable to respond. He quickly resumed pouring his drink, pretending he hadn’t heard his brother. He heard Stefan sigh and get up.

“Just think about it, ok?” he asked as he made his way to the stairs, gesturing to the prone girl. “And get her back to whatever sorority house she came from.”

 

* * *

 

 

“So, how did your talk go?” Caroline asked. 

“No idea,” Stefan sighed and adjusted the phone to a more comfortable position. “He seemed to consider it for a second. Do you really think him going after Gwen is a good idea?”

“Well, I think getting him out of Mystic Falls is a great idea.”

“Caroline,” he said with just a hint of a reprimand.

“All right,” Caroline said, though her tone suggested she had just rolled her eyes. “I think that if he’s going to break my friend’s heart, it should at least be worth the pain of it all. He needs to find Gwen.”

“How do you figure that?” Stefan asked, not quite following his girlfriend’s logic.

“He doesn’t want Elena. He didn’t try to make it work even when Gwen disappeared, and that really hurt her. It was like he rejected her twice. If he left town, even if it was temporary, it might give her some form of closure,” Caroline explained.

“Him possibly being happy and moving on will give her closure?”

“In a tough-love kind of way,” Caroline said, slightly defensive. “Look, she’s not going to forgive him, but she’s not moving on either. Maybe they both just need a kick in the ass to do it.”

“What’s she doing with Matt if it’s not moving on?”

“They’re not together,” Caroline said derisively, and Stefan sensed there had been another eye roll. “She’s just fucking him, and he’s fooling himself that it’s anything more.”

“Wow,” Stefan said, chuckling at the venom in her voice.

“You know how I feel about your brother, but Elena has been just as selfish throughout this whole thing. It’s time for both of them to deal with their issues.”

“I agree with you on that.”

“Well of course you do. You know I’m right,” Caroline quipped.

“Do you think Bonnie might be interested in helping with this plan?”

“Oh, hell no. She’s fed up with the both of them.”

“That means Damon is going to have to put in effort into finding Gwen.”

“He once put in a lot of effort for Katherine. Gwen has to mean more to him than her. Right?”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” Stefan said, though he didn’t sound hopeful. “New topic: what are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Well,” Caroline drawled, her tone playful. “I’m going on a romantic date with this really cute guy.”

“Is that so?” Stefan asked, smiling as he played along.

“Mmhmm.”

“Where’s he taking you?”

“It’s a surprise,” she sighed in mock disappointment. “But I do know that he’s picking me up at seven with a beautiful bouquet of daisies.”

“He told you that, did he?”

“Well no, but it would be a good way to start off our romantic evening that won’t include angst-y brothers or friends.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“So, you’ll pick me up tomorrow at seven?”

“Promptly, and with flowers,” Stefan said, his smile growing.

“Daisies,” she reminded him.

“Yes. See you tomorrow, Caroline.”

“Good night, Stefan,” she said cheerfully before ending the call. Stefan continued smiling after the call ended, even though he now needed to plan an entire date night. Caroline was worth it, and she definitely deserved a bit of normal romance.


	30. Chapter 30

“So that’s it?” Katherine asked in disbelief as she critically eyed the vial Gwen had just handed her. “I drink this, you chant a spell, and Klaus can never find me again?”

“Yes…. Well, unless he finds out about it and finds some way to undo it,” Gwen added as an afterthought. “Short of that, he shouldn’t be able to track you, magically or otherwise.”

Katherine looked mildly impressed as set the vial down on the kitchen counter. “So, spell at midnight?”

“Yes,” Gwen nodded, turning back to the counter to clean up the remaining mess.

“It’s a little cliché, isn’t?”

“There’s a reason it’s called the ‘witching hour,’” Gwen shrugged. “Besides, leaving in the middle of the night is hardly the worst idea.”

Katherine watched Gwen clean up, noticing the tense set of her shoulders and the perpetual frown on her lips. The girl was all work and no play, which was really a shame. Gwen was not half-bad company, and could be quite the party girl. Katherine sighed, leaning against the counter opposite Gwen.

“You don’t have to go after this guy — not when you have this potion,” Katherine. “Come with me to Europe. It’ll be fun.”

“I can’t,” Gwen sighed, rinsing out the rag she had been using to wipe up the counter tops. “Not yet, at least. My problem is something that can be taken care of; I just don’t want him to know I’m coming. I’m going to need all the advantages I can get.”

“All right,” Katherine said with a shrug. Her nonchalant demeanor returned in an instant. “If you change your mind, you know how to find me.”

“Thanks. I might need to take you up on that, depending on how this goes.”

“I think you can handle one little witch-boy. You took out over a hundred on your own,” Katherine said, as if they were not discussing killing someone. Though, Gwen supposed, killing people really wasn’t such a big deal to the infamous Katherine Pierce.

“I need to pack and load up the car. I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” Gwen said as she left the kitchen.

She was so nervous that she was already wringing her hands as she walked to her room. Keeping track of Zach over the last few weeks had been surprisingly easy, and she knew he was now in Lincoln, Nebraska. She thought she could make the drive in two or three days, though she had no idea what she would actually do once she got there. She had some potions prepared and knew a handful of defensive spells, but how could she really prepare for facing this guy?

Gwen shook her head, as if doing so could get rid of her doubts. Katherine was right; she had taken out an entire coven on her own. What was one more, weakened witch?

 

* * *

 

 

Katherine was sitting in the airport waiting for her flight to New York, where she would catch a connecting flight to England. Well, if she ever got to board the first flight. A plane repair was taking an eternity. Her phone rang, bringing a welcome distraction from the boredom of people watching. She smirked when saw the caller I.D.

“Hello, Damon,” she said cheerily. “I figured you’d lost this number.” 

“Where’s Gwen?” he demanded. 

Katherine smirked. “To the point. That’s not a tactic you usually favor.”

“Katherine,” he warned. “Just tell me where she is.”

“I’m sorry, who’s Gwen?” Katherine asked, deciding to get some entertainment while she waited to board her plane. “Wasn’t that the name of your dead wife?”

“Cut the crap,” Damon snapped. Katherine’s smirk only grew at his impatience. “I went back to the hotel in New York. I know you were there. Of course she would ask you for help, Stefan made you out to be a master at disappearing.”

“It’s nice to know _someone_ has nice things to say about me,” she interpreted.

“Whatever,” Damon sneered, and she could practically hear the eye roll. “Where is she?”

“I really couldn’t tell you where she is at this moment,” Katherine said, affecting an innocent tone. “We’ve gone our separate ways.”

“Do you know where she’s going?” Damon pressed.

“Of course, but I see no reason why I should tell you.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” he challenged.

“I like the little witch,” Katherine admitted. Damon could have sworn he heard a note of affection in her voice, but chose not to dwell on it. “Honestly, she deserves some quiet when she’s free. She’ll hardly get that with you in her life.”

“When she’s free? What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, thrown by Katherine apparently caring about Gwen. “Fuck! She’s gone after him, hasn’t she?”

“These sparks of intelligence are always a nice surprise,” Katherine quipped. After a few seconds, she sighed and relented. “She’s on her way to Lincoln, Nebraska. I don’t know where exactly; but if you can track down Zachary Peters, you should be able to find her.

“Thanks,” Damon said after some hesitation.

“Don’t make me regret this phone call,” Katherine said, hanging up. _Perfect timing_ , she thought as they announced that her plane was ready to board. She gathered her things and went to stand in line with the first class travelers without a worry.

Gwen would be fine with or without Damon, but a little backup never hurt anyone. Besides, maybe he would distract the man-witch long enough for Gwen to end the bastard.

 

* * *

 

 

Caroline couldn’t help the large, idiotic smile that seemed to be permanently plastered on her lips. Stefan had managed to plan a nice date that was drama-free and, more importantly, Damon-free. He had even turned off his phone for the night before bringing her a bouquet of multi-colored daisies. They had gone to the next town over to an authentic Italian restaurant, taking some time to walk around the town and talk. 

Back in her kitchen, she was rearranging the daisies for the third time when Bonnie joined her. 

“Looks like your date went well,” Bonnie said, walking behind Caroline to get a glass out of the cabinet. She had moved in with Caroline and Liz a few months ago, at Caroline’s insistence. Actually, she was too young to legally live on her own so Liz had the final say. Liz had even turned her office into a bedroom for Bonnie. 

“It was perfect,” Caroline sighed happily. “How was your night?”

“Quiet,” Bonne said before taking a sip of water and continuing. “I stayed in and pretended I was working on the history paper, but I was really just binge watching _30 Rock_.”

“No Elena?” Caroline asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Bonnie shook her head. “I called and texted, but she never responded. I’m sure she’s fine. She’s just…being Elena,” she said with a shrug.

“You know what, fine,” Caroline said, raising her arms in surrender. “She wants to wallow and mope over _Damon Salvatore_ while using Matt, then we’re going to let her.”

“Oh we are, are we?” Bonnie asked doubtfully with an amused smirk on her face. 

“Yep,” Caroline said with a nod to emphasize her point. “I’m done trying to…I don’t know. I’m just done. Is it wrong if I just want to be happy?”

“No,” Bonnie smiled. “But we both know you’re not giving up on her.”

“I know,” Caroline conceded in a half-whine. “Just tonight, then. I get to enjoy being selfishly happy for a bit longer. Ice cream?”

“Yes, grab both pints and we’ll go watch some more _30 Rock_.”

“Good plan,” Caroline said, grabbing two spoons from the drawer before getting the ice cream out of the freezer.


	31. Chapter 31

Gwen had been on the road for two days. She was tired, desperate to look at something other than flat, endless fields of various crops. Worse, she smelled. Her first goal upon reaching Lincoln was to check into a motel and shower, followed by food and getting her bearings. It was no good to go up against Zachary as tired as she was. She doubted he was weak even without the strength of the coven’s collective magic. He had been able to convince, or force, a large number of people to follow him. That kind of influence usually required a serious show of power.

With a sigh of relief, she pulled into the parking lot of yet another old, nondescript motel. Gwen grabbed her purse off the passenger’s seat and got out of the car, stretching her stiff body. There was a slight pain, but it felt good to move. After two days of driving and sleeping in her car, she had decided that people who travelled for fun were insane. Whoever romanticized the great American road trip was probably on drugs.

The worker at the front desk seemed surprised when Gwen walked through the door; apparently, they did not get a lot of guests. The room she was given felt damp, a mixture of humidity and, most likely, a faulty air conditioner — hardly worth the seventy bucks she had to fork over for the key. She set her things on the table, switching on the ceiling fan to get some air circulating. When that didn’t seem to work, she even cracked open the window for a fresh breeze. She walked into the bathroom and tried not pay attention to its cleanliness, though she heartily wished for a pair of shower shoes. Thankfully, the towels looked clean, and there were plenty to spare for her to line the shower floor.

Turning on the water to let it warm up, Gwen sorted through her toiletries. She could at least take comfort in cleaning herself despite the dirty room. The shower also helped to get rid of the remaining stiffness in her body from the drive, letting her clear her head under the stream of water.

As she let her hair air dry, she performed a scrying spell to check on Zachary. He was still in the area, though not at his home. _Good,_ she thought, _I can drive by the place on my way to get some food._ Maybe it was reckless to stay so near to him, but it made things easier. Plus, Gwen was already dreading having to get back in the car. It was best to keep the driving short if she could.

To not draw attention to herself while she as out, Gwen kept her clothes simple. The jeans and hoodie were a double win considering they were the most comfortable items in her makeshift wardrobe. 

Picking up some fast food on the way, the drive to Zachary’s house was only twenty minutes or so for Gwen. She was surprised to find herself in a rather upscale neighborhood, though she supposed it made sense. He had to have money in order to travel as much and as far as he did and maintain a secret cult compound.

His house didn’t seem unusual in the slightest: no guards, no security cameras, and no signs of warding. She debated investigating further as she munched on a fry. None of the neighbors were around, nor did it seem to be a very busy street. She could always pretend to be lost.

Switching off the ignition, she stepped into the muggy heat. Gwen kept checking her surroundings as she walked up the driveway, trying to spot any sign of magical wards. Typically, witches would keep warding stones near the main entrance to alert them of an approaching witch, especially those with less than good intentions toward the inhabitant — but Gwen found nothing of the sort.

He clearly didn’t expect her to show up at his home, and he hadn’t bothered with the barest safeguards to interfere with her magic. It seemed Zach felt very safe, which was lucky for her. She walked back down the driveway to her car, looking over her shoulder once to make sure no one had seen her.

When she made it back to the motel, there were a couple of new cars in the parking lot but it was still quiet. Lost in her thoughts, she did not see the figure sitting on her bed when she first walked into her room.

“Shit!” she said, jumping backward in surprise when she noticed him. “What the hell are you doing here? How did you even know I was here?”

Damon remained where he was, looking unconcerned at her outburst. In fact, his expression was completely blank, which meant he was pissed. Gwen fought the urge to roll her eyes. She didn’t have the patience to deal with him right now.

“Katherine told you, didn’t she?” Gwen questioned, throwing her purse on the kitchen table.

“Obviously,” he deadpanned.

“Well, I don’t know why she told you, but you can go now,” she continued when it became clear Damon was not going to elaborate.

He rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed, and pushed himself off the bed to walk toward her. “If I go, then you’re going, too.”

“ _You_ do not get to tell me what to do,” she said angrily. “I don’t need your help and I don’t _want_ your help.”

“You almost died, do you remember that?” he snapped. He was standing about a foot in front of her with his arms crossed and hard eyes. Feeling trapped, Gwen pushed past him under the pretense of going to close the window, which must have been how he’d gotten into the room.

“So what? I’m not going to run and hide forever! That’s not a life, and that’s not why my parents and Helen died,” she snapped, matching his tone. “And I don’t need you getting in the way! Just go back to Mystic Falls.”

“You know, how about you actually let me help you for once?”

“Help me? You won’t even be able to get in. What are you going to do? Glare from the entryway?”

Damon gave an exasperated sigh and ran his hand through his hair. He walked toward her once again, careful to not crowd her this time. “The first time around, you weren’t honest about how bad things were. Then you — and our baby — died in a fire. This time, so far, you’ve insisted on doing this alone and you’ve lost your adopted mother and almost died. So why don’t you stop trying to do this on your own and accept my help!”

“Because I don’t understand why you want to help me, and I can’t be worrying about your motives right now!” Gwen was losing the will to keep this up; she was tired and it didn’t really matter. Soon either she or Zach would be dead, and Damon would do whatever he wanted, regardless.

“Do you think, just maybe, my motives are the same ones you have for trying to keep me out of this?” Damon asked, his tone softening a bit.

She rolled her eyes. _Stupid man complicating my life_ , Gwen thought. She really didn’t want to deal with this, now or ever. Luckily, they were both too stubborn to be the one to truly start _that_ conversation.

“Fine,” she conceded with a sigh. “You can stay. But, you’re not the one making the decisions and you have to find somewhere else to sleep.”

“Yeah no, you’re stuck with me,” he said lying down on the bed and smirking. “If I leave, you’ll just take off again. Besides, this bed is bigger than the one at the cabin. There’s plenty of space for the both of us.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, walking over to her suitcase to fish out a set of pajamas. He switched on the TV, but she could have sworn she heard him chuckle at the long flannel.

Having changed and brushed her teeth, Gwen scoffed at his apparent comfort in her space. “You stay on your side of the bed,” she muttered as she slid under the sheets, turning on her side to face away from him. She felt the bed shift as he reached over to turn off the lamp.

“You can tell me what to do tomorrow,” he said, wrapping an arm around her stomach pulling her closer to him.

“I hate you,” she grumbled into her pillow.

Damon chuckled again. “Just sleep. You need to be rested for tomorrow.”

“Shut up, asshole.”


	32. Chapter 32

“What time is it?” Gwen mumbled as she struggled to wake up the next morning.

“One,” Damon said from across the room. At least, she assumed he was across the room because he sounded far away.

“In the morning?”

“In the afternoon,” he said, sounding amused. “Sit up and drink this.”

She groaned but complied with his request, squinting at the brightness of the room as she forced her eyes to open. He placed a hot cup of coffee in her hands, letting go when he was sure she had a good grip on it.

“How do you already have hot coffee for me?”.

“I went out and got you some breakfast, or lunch. I had planned to wake you up when I got back.”

“Well, thanks,” she mumbled.

“Are you sure you want to do this today?” he asked, sitting next to her on the bed.

“Yes,” she nodded adamantly. “The element of surprise is everything, and I want to be done. I’m ready.” Damon still looked unconvinced. “I know what I’m going to do. I have the potions ready, and I know enough spells.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “What’s the plan?”

“Since you’re insisting on helping, I think you should be the bait,” Gwen said with a small smile. “You’ll create a distraction and draw out his guards and take care of them. If it doesn’t draw Zach out, too, I can still get into the house and go after him.”

“Sounds too simple,” Damon criticized.

“I have a power stripping potion. With him and the others distracted by you, I should be able to use the potion on a few of them and even things out a little. They’ll think it’s just a random vampire attack, not an attack from a witch.”

“And how am I distracting them?”

“Do I have to come up with everything? From what Stefan told me, you should be a pro at this,” she half-teased, though she was trying to cover up her nerves. Either she was doing a good job or Damon was ignoring it.

“Well, he’s not wrong,” he said looking smug. “Just to be clear, when you say ‘take care of,’ you mean…?”

“Kill,” she said quietly. “We’re going to kill them.”

“You’re sure?” He searched her face for any sign she wouldn’t be able to follow through on the plan.

“Yes,” she answered as firmly as she could. “Besides, I already killed a hundred crazy cult witches, what’s a few more?”

“Sure,” Damon said, not fooled by her forced nonchalance. “Get up, get dressed, eat, and get your witchy things together. I’m going to solidify your plan a bit since, you know, I’m the pro.”

“Fine. Thanks for the food, by the way.” She got out of the bed and walked over to the kitchen table. She refused to look at him though, so she missed the pleased look on his face.

 

* * *

 

 

“Tell me again,” Damon said, grabbing her arm when she made to get out of the car.

“We’ve been over this a hundred times,” Gwen groaned. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“What’s the plan?” he asked again, ignoring her protests. She slid back into the drivers seat and yanked her arm out of his grip.

“We sneak around to the back, where you will cause a distraction and I stay hidden,” she rattled off, not bothering to keep the annoyance out of her voice. “Once everyone — ”

“Five,” Damon interrupted. “There’s five of them in there. I’m pretty sure they’re all men, too.”

Gwen rolled her eyes. They were going to have to kill everyone, no matter their gender. However, she did appreciate knowing how many people they were up against, somewhat grateful for Damon’s vampire hearing. He had checked out the house earlier, detecting only five heartbeats. It seemed to make the task less impossible on some level.

“Once all five are out of the house,” Gwen continued. “I’ll use my potions to strip as many of them of their magic before we finish them off.

“You’re acting very blasé.” Damon shot her a disapproving glare. “You need to take this seriously.”

“I am taking this seriously,” she snapped. “I know that this going to be messy and dangerous, but it has to be done. Let’s just go.”

They sat in silence for a minute, glaring at each other. Gwen was the first to look away, getting out of the car with a huff. Damon was by her side in a second, her only warning that he had moved was the sound of the car door closing behind him. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but instead took her hand and led them across the street.

Gwen avidly checking out their surroundings as they walked. The street was oddly dark; she expected more streetlights in such a rich neighborhood. Most of the houses had light streaming from their windows, but no occupants seemed to be looking out onto the street. She had a feeling the neighbors would call the police if they saw two strange people sneaking around.

Thankfully, they reached the gate without being seen. Damon easily broke the lock to let them into the backyard. He stopped shy of rounding the corner of the house, making sure they weren’t walking into a trap.

“Coast is clear,” he whispered, turning to her. “Do you have your potions ready?”

Reaching into her bag, Gwen pulled out three vials full of a dark aqua liquid. If she timed it right, she could get all five men, but only if she had excellent aim. Stripping only three of their magic would still be a win.

“Ok,” Damon said, though he lacked the familiar confidence she had grown used to. Gwen repressed the urge to snap at him, or hit him. She did not have the time for him to be overprotective. “Stay here until they’re all —”

“All five.”

“— out,” Damon finished, pretending to ignore her sass, though Gwen saw a slight hint of a smile.

He walked around the corner of the house, and Gwen positioned herself so she could watch but not be spotted. She had no idea what his plan to cause a distraction was — he had insisted that he could improvise an effective ruse. So, she was a little underwhelmed when he picked up stones from the side of the pool, throwing them through the windows of the back of the house.

“Shit,” she muttered. The noise might attract concerned neighbors, and she didn’t want them to call the police. The whole point was to attract the target’s attention, not the whole block.

However, the results were instant. Within seconds of Damon shattering half the windows, three men came running out of the shattered French doors. Even with the back porch light on, she could not clearly make out their features in the darkness. They all seemed to be about Damon’s height. Two were on the lanky side, but the third had a very buff silhouette. Still, size wasn’t relevant to their magical ability; she was glad Damon at least had all his vampire abilities.

The men spun around for a minute, searching for the source of the broken windows. Gwen’s own eyes darted around the yard as she tried to spot Damon. Suddenly, there was a loud snap, and the larger man fell limply to the ground.

“What the fuck?!” yelled one of the others, while the third ran to check on the fallen man.

“He’s dead. Did you see anything?”

“No. Shit!”

They continued to curse and pace nervously as they tried to figure out what was happening. Gwen glanced up and saw Damon on the roof, crouching behind the stone chimney so the men couldn’t see him. He saw her watching and motioned for her to stay still. She nodded, though she had to do something. The men knew they weren’t alone, and she still needed the other two to come out; they needed to die.

“What can move that fast?”

“I don’t — a vampire,” the other answered. “Of course.”

“A vampire? Why would a vampire be attacking us?” He sounded scared, making Gwen smile.

“I don’t know. Let’s try expanding the barrier spell. That should force him out.”

Before the men could utter a word of the incantation, however, Damon dropped down from the roof and bit into the dominant man’s neck while Gwen cast a spell to stop the other. Damon dropped his target a moment later, blood dripping down his chin.

“Was that necessary?” Gwen hissed. He shrugged, turning to look back at the house and wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

The following silence made Gwen uneasy. Why had the others not come to check on their friends? About to call for Damon, she felt a push from behind. She fell forward, the vials sleeping from her hands. If they broke around her, she would be stripped of her powers. However, she was more concerned about the sharp pain from her shoulder hitting the ground. She must have landed on a rock or something, but did not take the time to inspect the injury. Scrambling to get up, all Gwen wanted was to get away from her attacker. She had barely managed to push herself up from the ground when two large hands grabbed her, pulling her backward.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” the man holding her mocked, forcing her to walk forward. “Gwen Anderson, and you’ve brought along a parasitic helper.”

Gwen momentarily stopped fighting to get away and saw Damon doubled-over and clutching his head. No one was near him, which meant the man was able to psychically attack him while manhandling her. Simultaneous attacks were a difficult feat; in fact, Gwen had never heard of being possible. When they reached Damon, the man threw her to the ground where she was once again met with a sharp, cutting pain as she landed on the broken glass.

“Fuck,” she groaned. Damon was yelling unintelligibly, though he was clearly in pain. As she carefully pushed herself up, Gwen noticed a larger shard of glass just to the left of her. It was a long shot, but she would rather take the chance than not. As discretely as she could, she picked it up with car, forcing herself to not react to the pain of the glass cutting her hand.

“So you’re the one who took out the rest of the coven?” The man was smugly looming over them. “Must’ve been a fluke. It doesn’t look like you could kill a fly let alone a hundred people.”

“Don’t judge a book and all that,” she said, more focused on a new attack strategy than her wit.

“You shouldn't waste your energy, cupcake,” he said, as if reading her mind. “I’ll deflect it before you finish the spell.”

Spurred on by his cockiness and the need to help Damon, who was rolling on the ground in pain, she lashed out. Her defensive spell served to knock him off-balance and broke his concentration on Damon. She then lunged at him with the shard of glass. She was able stab his neck before he pushed her away, but she wasn’t sure how deep the cut ran. At least the distraction freed Damon of the spell while man tended to his wound. Damon recovered quickly, already checking Gwen for serious injuries.

The man froze for a moment, seemingly stunned that she had been able to use magic against him. He reached up, grasping the shard of glass that was still lodged in his neck to pulled it out. 

Blood immediately squirted from his neck. Realizing what he had done, the man panicked and began clutching his neck, trying to stem the flow of blood. Gwen watched in horror, torn between wanting to help and wishing he would die quickly. After a particularly strong squirt of blood sprayed across Gwen, Damon moved them back a few feet. The man was growing pale and seemed to be losing the ability to even stand. He tripped over a stray stone and fell backward into the pool, where he ceased to move.

“Two to two,” Damon muttered, trying to make light of the situation. Like keeping score of their murders was something to be proud of.

“Don’t,” Gwen whispered harshly, forcing herself to turn away from the lifeless body floating in the pool. Pulling herself together, she said, “I have to go in. He’s not going leave the house.”

“No, we can think of something else,” Damon said. Her going in the house alone was the last resort, and he was adamant that they weren’t there yet. “We can force him out.”

“We tried that.”

“He’ll come out if we set the house on fire.”

“So will the fire department.”

“Can’t you make him think the house is on fire?”

“No…. But, maybe I can try something else,” she added, an idea forming in head. “We need to get further away from the house, and you need to go block the front door so he’s forced to come our way.”

Damon hesitated, but sped off to do as she said. She walked to the other side of the pool, hoping that would be far enough, and took a calming breath.

“What are you going to do?”

“Cause a very concentrated earthquake,” she said, trying to sound more confident than she was.

“Can you do that?” Damon asked, looking concerned.

“I think so, but…” Gwen hesitated. “Don’t go far. I might need help.”

She closed her eyes and visualized the house in her mind, focusing all her energy on it. After a few minutes of concentration, the house began to shake. As her confidence grew, so did the strength of the quake. She could hear more glass shattering as the house rattled violently.

“ENOUGH!!”

Gwen’s eyes snapped open, the shaking stopped instantly. She felt Damon tense beside her, staring at yet another man who stood across from them. He looked furious. Gwen was a bit taken aback at the harmless nerd behind the fury. Where she expected an intimidating menace stood a skinny, middle-aged man who was roughly her height, wore round glasses, and had disheveled hair and a messy beard.

“You’re the fearsome, evil master-mind, cult leader?” she asked, unsure if she should laugh or be more afraid. After all, hadn’t his henchman just made the same assumption about her?

Zach didn’t answer, still fuming. He simply raised his hand, and Damon flew across the. He crashed into the fence, falling to the ground in a limp heap. Gwen guessed his neck had been broken when he was thrown. _He’ll be ok_ , she told herself. _Focus._ Her nerves were fried. Despite all her talk earlier, she had not wanted to be alone when she faced this guy.

“Sorry about your friend,” Zach crowed, apparently having swallowed some of his rage in favor of being smug. “But I decided this should be a fair fight.”

“Fair?” she asked, too stunned to think of anything to say. Damon was out, her potions were across the yard, and she was losing confidence that she could do this. She needed to get to one of the vials, but Gwen doubted Zach would give her the time to focus enough to use magic.

“Sure, it’s one-on-one,” he shrugged, slowly walking around the edge of the pool toward her.  “We’re both without backup and, thanks to you, I don’t have a collective pool of magic to pull from. So yes, it would be the fairest fight I’ve been in for decades.”

“I feel so special,” she snapped.

“It’s a pity,” Zach sighed, feigning regret. “With your magic, that of a reincarnated witch, I really could have done great things. But I’ll get over it and start over.”

“You’re very confident considering I single-handedly decimated your power source.”

He was standing about five feet from her now. Gwen was still trying to figure out how to get away from him. She knew running would be stupid, but she couldn’t rule it out. Lost in though, she was suddenly thrown backward. It was nothing compared to the force he used throw Damon, but she did get the wind knocked out of her.

“I’m not worried,” Zach said, nonchalant as he sauntered over to her. “You weren’t trained for combat. All of your accomplishments are the result of having the time to plan and dumb luck. I think you’re out of both.”

Gwen felt as if something was pressing down on her, realizing she was unable to move. She fought against the spell, but nothing happened. When he reached her, Zach knelt down and smirked. Just as she felt the other spell letting up, he cast a new one. It felt like two hands wrapped around her neck, slowly suffocating her. Though she could finally move, the situation was still futile. He was right; she was not trained for combat. Worse, she was too distracted by the fact that she was going to die to try to think of a plan.

Smiling gleefully, Zach just watched as she struggled. Gwen wanted nothing more than hurt him. This was the man who had ordered her parents’ and Helen’s deaths. She was just going to let him kill her, too?

It was infuriating.

She could feel herself getting dizzy, and, on a whim, kicked at his shins. Against all odds, the jab managed to surprise and distract her attacker long enough to lift the spell. Gwen gasped as oxygen rushed to her lungs. Having no time to recover, she quickly stood up and kicked him in the stomach to keep him off balance for a few more seconds. He was expecting an attack with magic, a physical one might cause him enough pain to buy her some time to think. Plus, she wanted him to hurt.

 _That’s it_ , she thought, triumphantly.

Quickly she cast an immobilizing spell like he had done to her, then focused on holding that spell while trying to channel all the pain he had caused her to him. She feared it wouldn’t work — until he screamed.

Encouraged by her success, she lifted the immobilizing spell and focused all her energy on intensifying the pain. The noise he made scraped against her soul, but she couldn’t help but smile at his suffering. He certainly deserved it.

Eventually, Zach passed out from the pain, and Gwen lifted the spell. Her nose was bleeding from the effort, and the intense concentration left her lightheaded.

“That’s a little terrifying,” a voice said from behind her.

“Damon?” She spun around to see him watching her, concern written all over his face. Apart from a few tears in his shirt, he looked fine. It didn’t even look like he’d been in a fight, let alone almost lost.

“Is he dead?” he asked, coming to stand next to her. He slid an arm around her waist, and she was thankful for the support. Feeling exhausted, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stay upright.

“Not yet,” she said, shaking her head.

“Ok, come with me.”

Confused, she tried to ask him what he meant, but he picked her up and whooshed them to the car, gently setting her inside.

“What — ”

“Just wait here,” he said. “I’ll be back in a second.”

And he was, to her human sensibilities. She tried to find out what he had done, but he refused to answer. Damon just insisted she had been through enough tonight. He took her back to the motel room, helping her to clean up so she could rest before they left in the morning.

Too tired to fight him telling her what to do, Gwen actually passed out before he finished telling her the plan.


	33. Chapter 33

“Finally,” Stefan snapped, irritated that Damon finally reached out and it was in the middle of the night. “I’ve been calling for days. Where are you?”

“Lincoln. Nebraska,” Damon said, his voice hoarse and exhausted.

Stefan’s worry only grew. “What’s going on? I came home and were you just gone, I haven’t heard from you in days, and now you’re in Lincoln?!”

“Calm down, brother. You’re starting to sound shrill,” Damon mocked. “Per your advice, I left to find Gwen. I did, and now the big bad man-witch and all his little minions are gone.”

“Are you guys all right?”

“A little bruised and tired, but yeah, we’re fine,” Damon sighed. “Gwen’s asleep now. I’m going to let her sleep for a few more hours, then we’ll get out of here.”

“You’re not coming back to Mystic Falls, are you?” Stefan asked, knowing the answer and already unsure how he felt about it.

“No, not for a while. Gwen needs to get away for a while, and I’ve made a bit of mess there. It might help things calm down if I make myself scarce,” he said nonchalantly. “You’ll be fine. You’ve got Vampire Barbie to keep you busy.”

Stefan rolled his eyes at his brother’s attempt at deflection. “Check in sometimes, okay? So I know you’re alive, and, uh, be careful.”

“I’ll make an effort to check in.”

“You mean you’ll rely on Gwen to remind you, or just do it for you?” Stefan asked, a hint of an amused smile starting to show.

“Exactly,” Damon smirked.

“Good-bye, Damon.” 

“See you around, brother.”

 

* * *

 

 

Damon woke up Gwen at three in the morning. He threw her things in the car and tossed some cash onto the nightstand to cover any fees. Gwen was still recovering, so Damon drove while she slept in the passenger’s seat. They ditched the car in a junkyard outside of Kansas City, and caught a cab to the airport. 

Gwen was sure Damon had compelled at least half a dozen airport employees so that they could get through security without being stopped. They hardly blended in with their beat-up, and last minute ticket purchases. Desperate and tired, she forgot to disapprove of his manipulation. Gwen wanted to get as far away as possible from Lincoln. She was more than willing to let Damon use his powers if it helped her leave everything behind.

“Here,” Damon said, handing her a plastic-wrapped sandwich. “You need to eat something. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Gwen unwrapped the sandwich and took a small bite. It was more stale bread than actual sandwich since the meat and cheese were layered thinly between the large halves of the bread roll. It wasn’t great, but she felt better after a few bites. 

“Where are we going?” she asked before taking a sip of the soda Damon had brought her.

Damon, who had been slouching next to her and pretending to sleep, sat up and turned to face her so that it would be harder for them to be overheard. “This flight will take us to Baltimore. I’ve booked us on a connecting flight to New York. We’ll head to Europe and figure it out from there.”

“What is it with vampires and Europe?” Gwen muttered, taking another bite of her sandwich.

Damon shrugged. “It’ll be good for you to be out of the country for a bit; plus you already have a fake identity. We shouldn’t have to worry about anyone realizing you’re you and not missing.”

“Guess I should thank Katherine for that.”

“Let’s not,” Damon grimaced. “I know you guys bonded or whatever, but I’d prefer to keep her at a distance.”

“Whatever,” Gwen said, rolling her eyes. “Do you think anyone will actually be looking for me? It’s not like they can connect me to…those people.”

“Probably not, unless there are any surviving members of the coven,” Damon added as an afterthought. In an attempt to comfort her, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s all going to be fine. Tomorrow, we’ll be a happy couple enjoying all that Europe has to offer. Start thinking about where you want to go.”

Gwen forced a smile, trying to appease him and seem excited. Maybe she would be in a few days or weeks, but she couldn’t stop herself from worrying. Plus, she was still drained from the fight. She expected she would recover faster than she did after destroying the coven. A good thing since she really couldn’t afford to be defenseless if they ran into any trouble, which was probably inevitable given what they were. A witch and a vampire traveling together were bound to get into some trouble every now and again.

She laid her head on his shoulder, pushing away her worrisome thoughts. Gwen couldn’t do anything about that now. The only things she could do were rest and hope that everything worked out.

* * *

 

They made it to London late the next day. Citing Gwen’s last two hotel choices, Damon had refused to let her make any of their arrangements. So they found themselves in a luxury hotel in London at a quarter to midnight. The clerk eyed them disdainfully throughout the check in process. Damon ignored him, but Gwen was worried he would call the cops on them.

“Do you want me to go back and compel him not to?” Damon asked, struggling to keep his temper in check. It had been a long couple of days and they were both on edge. “Listen, we look like shit; of course he’d be suspicious. My credit card will check out. Everything’s fine.”

Gwen glared at him, but remained silent. She grabbed some clean clothes from her bag and went to take a shower. She was just beginning to feel relaxed when she heard the room door slam. She flinched, trying to subdue the panic the rose within her as she realized she was alone. Gwen knew she could take care of herself; she’d proved that multiple times. However, Damon was the one with the seemingly limitless bank account. Paying for things would be a problem since she was broke and her fake credit card from Katherine would only work for so long.

She finished her shower and dried off before crawling into one of the beds. Gwen was surprised by how tired she was, especially considering she’d been doing nothing but sleeping on and off for the last day. She briefly considered getting up and bolting the door, but couldn’t muster up the motivation to move. Instead, she switched off the bedside lamp and pulled the blankets up to her chin. Damon would come back or he wouldn’t; she’d figure it out in the morning.

Gwen could have sworn she’d only been asleep for a few minutes when she heard the sound of the door opening and closing. Groggily, she forced her eyes open and saw that it was four in the morning. She felt the bed dip and tensed immediately.

“It’s just me,” Damon said quietly as he settled next to her under the blankets. “Go back to sleep.”

“Where were you?” Gwen asked against her better judgment.

“I went for a walk,” answered simply. “Thought you could use some time to yourself.”

“Long walk,” she muttered, burying into the blankets and pillows. Sighing, Damon wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to him.

“I may have gone to a bar to pass the time, but I spent most of the time just walking around.”

“Can you say something next time? Instead of storming out while I’m in the shower?”

“Fine, now go to sleep,” Damon said, kissing the top of her head. Gwen knew she’d have to force a real conversation later that day, but she was happy to let it drop for now. They had time to work things out.

* * *

 

“How’s Stefan?” Gwen asked from her seat across from Damon. They were at a very picturesque café on a cobblestone street in Paris. She sipped her coffee and started to pick apart the remains of Damon’s croissant. 

“Fine,” he answered, sliding his plate out of her reach. “He and the rest of the Scooby gang have graduated, Klaus and his asshole siblings are gone, and everything is calm in Mystic Falls.”

“All is well and you’re not there? Interesting,” she teased. “How’s my good friend Matt?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask,” he said with a scowl. Gwen laughed, flagging down the waiter so she could order her own food.

“Isn’t it, like, three in the morning there?” she asked after ordering. 

“Yeah,” Damon smirked. “He should learn to turn his phone off.”

“He’s not upset that you didn’t go back home?” she asked, taking another sip of her coffee.

“He’s ecstatic I’m not there,” Damon scoffed. “He can go about his happy, domestic college life with Caroline. For now at least.”

“I would like to finish my degree,” Gwen said absently. “But not at that tiny, sad college that group is going to. There are way better options out there and in way more fun places.”

“Sure,” Damon said with a shrug. He didn’t really understand why she wanted to go back to school — she had mentioned it a few times over the last three weeks — but he figured it wouldn’t be so bad, especially if she landed in a fun city. “Until then, what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, thanking the waiter for her food. “Have we done everything that’s a ‘must’ in Paris?”

“We can always come back if you think we’ve missed something. There are other places to see in France, like nude beaches.”

“Haha,” Gwen deadpanned, rolling her eyes.  “You know, it’s not like you’re being deprived of anything in that area. I would think you’d be able to have less of a one-track mind.”

“You should know better,” he said smugly. “I’ve always had a one-track mind.”

  
“You’re an idiot.”

“Am I buying train tickets for this afternoon?” he asked, ignoring her comment and pulling out his phone. 

“Yes.”

“Where to?” He glanced up when she didn’t respond right away. Gwen was holding her coffee cup and staring at him, but her eyes were glazed over in thought. She occasionally zoned out in the middle of their conversations, less often since they had begun their world tour. Damon figured it was related to the trauma, though he was hoping it would all pass without further complications.

“Gwen?” he prompted, trying to pull her out of it.

“Hmmm?”

“You ok?”

She smiled and reached out to take his free hand. “I’m fine. It’s cute when the big bad vampire worries about my mental state,” she teased.

“Well, I _am_ supposed to be the unhinged one,” he said, matching her mood. “So, where are we going?”

“Surprise me. But no nude beaches,” she added, squeezing his hand to emphasize her point.   
  
“Whatever you say, dear.” He purchased two tickets on a one o’clock train, pocketed his phone, and threw a few bills on the table. “Ready?” he asked, standing up from the table. “We need to pack.” 

She finished her coffee and took what remained of her pastry to eat on their walk back to the hotel. Looping her arm through his, she asked, “Where did you decide?”

“It’s a surprise, remember?”

“Fine, I trust you.”

“Because I’m the coolest unhinged vampire you know, and you love me?”

“Yes, you egotistical bastard,” she said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Because I love you.”


End file.
